


Episode 3-15 - "A Certain Point of View"

by ComradeTortoise, stgjr



Series: Undiscovered Frontier Season 3 - "The Coming Storm" [15]
Category: Babylon 5, Original Work
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, Multiverse, Psi Corps, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 64,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComradeTortoise/pseuds/ComradeTortoise, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stgjr/pseuds/stgjr
Summary: An investigation into a suspected Psi Corps black site leads to Robert meeting unexpected allies and a horrific new threat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Teaser**

 

 

_Personal Log: Robert Dale; 22 September 2643 AST. The_ Aurora _has returned from the Tanatis Frontier Sector in Universe A7R6, having completed a four week survey of several star systems. While I did not personally have any official duties involving this exploration mission, I am happy to have aided in our first contact efforts with the Dynielil and the Trenap while devoting the rest of the time to training myself.  
  
All in all, given the year we've had, it was a welcome change to engage in a peaceful mission instead of dealing with another violent situation.  
  
I am also happy to report that upon our arrival at Fleet Base Skret Tel, the Alakin had my personal operations vessel waiting for me, freshly delivered from the factory. I look forward to seeing the Paladin Special Operations Vessel in person._

 

 

The _Aurora_ had two shuttle bays for its small flotilla of shuttlecraft and runabouts. The main shuttle bay was located at the rear of the ship's primary hull, about halfway down the ship's length from the bow. Just below was the dock for the support ship - in this case the _ASV Koenig_ \- and below there, on the top deck of the drive hull, were the flight and launch decks for the ship's wing of Mongoose starfighters.  
  
The secondary shuttle bay sat by itself, on Deck 34 near the bottom of the ship toward the stern. The craft here were less numerous but included the specialized shuttles and runabout for the ship's Marine contingent.  
  
And, now, one other vessel.  
  
The ship was a re-purposed Dorei design of the Henjan-Kimati Shipbuilding company. Robert recognized it as resembling the armed courier _Keyeri_ co-owned by the Minbari ex-Ranger Lennier and Druni Jestani, a Dorei formerly from one of their metaphysical orders. He'd traveled on their vessel for several weeks earlier in the year, after he departed Gersal. Now he had one of his own.  
  
For one thing, the ship had to be in the secondary shuttle bay. There wasn't enough space for it in any of the other locations, and the air boss NCOs had with much grumbling re-assigned two of the shuttles to ensure this bay had the room for his new ship. It was larger than a runabout with a length of forty meters and a maximum wingspan of eighteen, shaped like a bird with its wings swept back in dark gray coloring. Darglan-tech pulse plasma cannons were built into the forward wings and warp nacelles were at the tips of said downswept wings; ball turrets with pulse guns were built into the top and bottom of the ship as well, four in total, in pairs arranged side by side. Its armament would let it pose at least some threat to larger ships like corvettes.  
  
Beside him, Lucy Lucero was looking over the ship. Like Robert she was in a field uniform of the Alliance Stellar Navy, black with the intelligence branch color of silver for the trim, and a single aiguillette to mark her a staff officer. In this her uniform mirrored Robert's.  
  
But neither was a staff officer. In truth Robert was one of twelve Paladins of the Alliance, a special operative given missions directly from President Morgan and his immediate subordinate Admiral Maran, the chairman of the Defense Command Staff. Lucy was the first member of his operations team. "They even fit a cloaking device on her," Lucy remarked. "A new topline model too. And a sensor suite better than any of our runabouts have. I'd almost call it starship grade."  
  
"And the engine is badass." That remark came from the third figure with them. Lieutenant Thomas Barnes wore the beige branch color of engineering/operations and served as the ship's Assistant Chief Engineer under the Starfleet veteran Montgomery Scott, his mentor. "Warp 6. She can't sprint like a full-sized starship, but she'll get you places nice and fast. And the impulsors are the best I've seen in this weight class. You won't out-maneuver a starfighter, but just about everything else."  
  
"I'm not surprised you couldn't resist giving my ship the once-over, Tom," Robert replied. He felt a bit of happiness to see Tom holding his right hand up to touch the surface of the nacelle. If anything it meant the replacement for his lost right arm was working, bringing his friend back to normal after losing his arm in the battle over _Welthauptstadt Germania_.  
  
"Maybe I need to become a Paladin, man," Tom said. "This is a sexy, sexy beast of a ship."  
  
"She's meant to be a quiet beast," noted Robert. "To get me into places people would rather I not be."  
  
"Yeah, yeah…"  
  
They approached the front of the ship and the cockpit area on what would be the "head" of the bird. "They spared no expense," Lucy said. "This thing has the best equipment the Alliance has developed in virtually every regard. Hell, I'm surprised they didn't try to jam an interuniversal drive in her."  
  
"Given the places she might go, that would have been unwise," said Robert. "Anyway, now that…"  
  
His voice trailed off as they rounded the cockpit and approached the starboard side of the ship. Robert's eyes followed the contours of the dark hull… until they were broken up by light paint. On the side of his new infiltrator, someone had painted, in bright and bold blue Gothic lettering with white outlines, the words " _Noble Steed_ ". A small decal of a white-armored knight on a similarly-armored charger was placed beside the name.  
  
The others saw it a moment later. Lucy broke out giggling, but Robert felt the surprise that told him she knew nothing of it. As it turned out, he didn't need his life force - the " _swevyra_ " he possessed, as the Gersallians called it - to know the culprit. The way Tom's burst of chortling quickly escalated to almost maniacal laughter was more than enough of a giveaway.  
  
There was something infectious about the laughter, too, such that even Robert had to start chuckling at the prank. "Very funny, Tom, very cute," he said, grinning. He faced his friend, who was still laughing hard. "You got me."  
  
"Ye-eah, yeah I did… _Sir_ Robert!" Tom managed that before continuing to laugh.  
  
"This is for all of the damage my training did to Holodeck 3, isn't it?" Robert felt a brief suspicion and looked up and around. "Okay, I'm sure someone's watching and enjoying this tease at the expense of my sense of right and wrong."  
  
The shuttlebay intercom chirped to life. " _Nope_ ," said Commander Zachary Carrey, another friend and commander of the _Koenig_. " _Not at all._ "  
  
" _Not us!_ " added an enthusiastic feminine, almost soprano voice. Robert could tell Caterina Delgado, a Lieutenant Commander and the ship's science officer, was fighting a fit of giggling in order to say those words.  
  
" _We're just figments of your imagination, noble Paladin_ ," added her sister Angela, the ship's tactical officer, ranked a Lieutenant.  
  
" _But you have to admit it_ is _fitting_ ," added Doctor Leonard Gillam, the _Aurora_ 's Chief Medical Officer.  
  
Robert leveled a look at Tom. "Just who else is in on this?"  
  
He stopped laughing long enough to answer, "Nick, Jarod, Nasri, your cousin…"  
  
Robert blinked. "What does Beth have to do with this?"  
  
"Zack told her about it, we promised to get her video," Tom laughed.  
  
"But you didn't tell me?" Lucy asked, sounding almost offended.  
  
"You've got that same life force woo woo stuff," Tom pointed out. "He might have picked it up."  
  
"Ha, he could _try_ ," Lucy declared, grinning wryly at Robert.  
  
Robert sighed, but he was still smiling. "Alright everyone, yeah, the joke's on me," he said. "But I will need to give this ship a proper…"  
  
His omnitool activated with the tone of an incoming comm. He hit the glowing blue button that lit up over the back of his left hand to answer. "Dale here."  
  
" _We have an incoming message from Admiral Maran_ ," answered Julia, undoubtedly up in her ready office off of the main bridge. " _I'm afraid you'll need to stop admiring your noble steed, Admiral Maran is on comms for us._ "  
  
While her voice was all business, Robert thought there was a hint of amusement in Julia's tone. "You knew?" he asked.  
  
" _I'm the Captain_ ," Julia replied. " _Of course I knew. Now get your butt going, Sir Robert. Thy noble lord is awaiting thee to give thee a quest, O Paladin_."  
  
Tom and Lucy started laughing again. Robert let out a chuckle and departed.

 

 

 

After his trip across the _Aurora_ , Robert stepped into the conference lounge from the bridge and approached the table. Julia was in Meridina's usual seat, to the right hand side of her usual seat at the head of the table. Robert took Jarod's on the left hand side and both faced the viewscreen built into the wall. On the screen Admiral Maran appeared. While always reserved and stoical, Robert was certain that the Gersallian man was happier than he'd been in years, relieved of the burden from fighting the Reich. To someone without a scanner Maran looked completely Human, like the rest of his people. His dark hair, including the beard and mustache, were fringed with gray, reflecting his age.  
  
" _Captain, I have reviewed some of your reports from the Tanatis Frontier. You've done well. High Minister Brepk and Regent Nalena have been quite fulsome in their thanks for your part in the expedition. We have high hopes for our future relations with the Trenap and the Dynielil. Both show promise as prospective Alliance partners, perhaps even members._ "  
  
"Commander Delgado is really eager to visit Agynnielil," Julia said. Robert thought she looked brighter as well. She'd enjoyed their peaceful exploration cruise as much as anyone. "The Dynielil we met during the first contact have indicated their species isn't native to the planet and are likely transplants. Given the timing alluded to in their written histories, it may indicate the Darglan transplanted them to Agynnielil."  
  
" _Perhaps we should introduce them to the Miqo'te_ ," Maran noted. " _Captain Dale, I trust you've been keeping busy?_ "  
  
"Yes sir," Robert answered. "While assisting the _Aurora_ crew with their scientific and diplomatic endeavors isn't the kind of duty most people expect from Paladins, I actually enjoyed the chance for a peaceful exploration cruise and was pleased to assist in the first contacts." He thought about those first contacts. The Trenap had been the trickier one; they were a species of what were essentially molluscoids with an entirely different oral structure, and as such tremendous effort had been required to even begin to translate their language into something understandable. In contrast the Dynielil were humanoids, of varying blue or reddish coloration (although one national group had a lighter, Human-like complexion), and on average taller and bulkier than Humans and other similar species.  
  
" _I'm glad to hear it. But I'm afraid that cruise is now over._ " Maran's expression, while always stoic, shifted to show the weight of the situation. " _Are you aware of the attack on Mars in E5B1 ten days ago?_ "  
  
"I noticed a report on something to the effect," Robert said. He sensed Julia tense a little. Clearly Maran was intending something less peaceful than another exploration cruise. "Terrorism was suspected."  
  
" _And confirmed. Unfortunately, the culprits may be laid on our doorstep, given the evidence._ "  
  
"What do you mean, Admiral?" asked Julia.  
  
" _Investigations have confirmed that the primary target was a Psi Corps facility on Mars_ ," Maran said. " _And the attack the responsibility of the Telepath Underground._ "  
  
Robert and Julia exchanged concerned looks. "Lyta Alexander," Robert sighed.  
  
" _Yes. And you can imagine how EarthGov is spinning this._ "  
  
"The Free Colony," Julia said. "They're using its existence to accuse us of being involved, or allowing it to happen?"  
  
" _That is a common view in Earthspace, yes. And it has led to violent incidents against Alliance citizens. The Foreign Office is already advising against travel to the Earth Alliance until the situation is resolved. And that's where you come in. Because of the tense situation, President Luchenko has agreed…_ "  
  
Robert listened as Maran laid out the _Aurora_ 's mission. The idea of negotiating the problem was good, but he wondered how it would turn out for them.  
  
"Understood, Admiral," Julia said, nodding. "Let me know where the rendezvous is and I'll get the ship underway."  
  
" _They'll be traveling aboard the_ Shenzhou. _You'll be meeting them at the Darglan Homeworld._ "  
  
That part didn't make sense to Robert, given the astrographical layout of the galaxy and the political boundaries. She'teyal, the Darglan Homeworld, was Rimward of Earth, but B5 was in the Epsilon Eridani system, which was more Coreward. "Isn't that in the opposite direction from B5? Or is the Secretary not on Earth?"  
  
Maran nodded. " _He departed this morning, actually, but the stop at She'teyal is important. The_ Aurora _and the_ Shenzhou _will rendezvous with the_ Huáscar _there. Captain Zhen'var and members of her staff will be personally briefing you and Secretary Onaran's team on what happened at Mars._ "  
  
To that Julia asked, "I thought the _Huáscar_ was still on her working up cruise?"  
  
" _They were, but circumstances intervened. They were there for the post-attack cleanup and investigation and they have critical information on the attack that may be relevant to the talks_." Maran leaned in slightly. " _After you've picked up Secretary Onaran and his team, head to B5 to begin the negotiations._ " He put his hands together on the desk before him. Robert listened as he explained the Alliance government's hope to persuade Earth to relax its laws regarding telepaths, including the laws that established the Psi Corps as responsible for all telepaths, with membership mandated in its ranks.  
  
"If there's no Psi Corps to chase rogues, then the Underground won't feel a need to lash out?" Robert suggested.  
  
Maran nodded once. " _That is one way of putting it. And that brings me to the other issue at hand…_ " The way his eyes moved indicated he was looking to Julia. " _Captain, I must now discuss Paladin business with Captain Dale. Given you will soon be in personal contact with representatives of EarthGov, including a member of Psi Corps, I'm afraid I must insist on secrecy._ "  
  
Robert glanced apologetically to Julia, but she nodded once and stood. "I understand, Admiral. I'll order a jump to E5B1 immediately. Permission to be dismissed?"  
  
" _Granted_."  
  
Julia nodded in understanding to Robert and left the lounge. After she was gone Robert called out, "Computer, initiate secure lockdown of conference lounge in accordance with Paladin security protocols, authorization code Dale Gamma-Tau-Epsilon-40."  
  
A moment later the systems beeped in acknowledgement. " _Lockdown and containment protocols confirmed. Security measures in place._ " By this the computer confirmed that the lift entrance and the door entrance to the lounge were locked down to prevent entry. An electronic field and a matching sonic isolation field to prevent any listening devices or other spy equipment from functioning was also enabled. Robert doubted the measures necessary, but it was part and parcel of his new job. Leaks could get him killed. "We're secure, Admiral," Robert confirmed.  
  
" _I'm initiating signal encryption now._ " After a momentary flicker, representing the _Aurora_ 's computers adjusting to the encryption, the image stabilized. " _Confirm?_ "  
  
Robert used the conference table controls for a moment. "Encryption in place." He looked to Maran again. "I'm listening, Admiral."  
  
" _We need you to take your new infiltrator and launch a covert investigation of a possibly-hostile facility_ ," Maran said. With no further prompting he launched into an explanation. " _Long range scans at the edge of Alliance space in E5B1 recently detected what might have been a hyperspace jump point near an uninhabited garden world in neutral space, in the Tau Atrea System. Apparently it was once an Earth Alliance colony site, but it was abandoned during the Minbari War and never re-settled afterward. Our own settlement plans have been on hold to avoid provoking trouble with Earth._ "  
  
"And now someone's re-settled it?" Robert asked.  
  
Maran replied with a slight nod. " _When we confirmed the reading we sent observation probes. After days of careful scanning we didn't detect any electronic signals, nor any signs of life forms. When our probes were about to enter the inner system, their proximity alarms went off and kept them in the outer system. Observe_."  
  
With a press of a key Maran dispatched a video file to the _Aurora_ conference lounge. Robert directed it to the holo-projector built into the conference table and activated it. The video showed a far shot of a pleasant-looking garden planet.  
  
The empty orbital space was suddenly not so empty, as a blink of blue light expanded into a blue vortex. A large vessel emerged, an E5B1 Human-designed spaceliner from the looks of it. " _Asimov_ -type passenger liner," Robert noted aloud. "But are those weapons arrays?"  
  
Maran didn't answered. The video zoomed in, to get a better look at the vessel's detail. Robert could make out definite signs of modification, turning a civilian ship into what was at least an armed transport. But he soon realized the most important detail was on the spinning drum that provided gravity.  
  
On said drum was a shield insignia, black in color, over which was laid a silver symbol. He easily recognized the Greek letter.  
  
 _Psi_.  
  
"Psi Corps," he said. "On a world on the edge of Alliance space. What are they doing there?"  
  
" _That, Captain, is precisely what we want you to find out_ ," said Maran.

 

 

**Undiscovered Frontier  
 _"A Certain Point of View"_**

 

The inside of the infiltrator had that kind of factory-fresh "newness" that many species could recognize. There were no indications of prior habitation, no smells or marks or anything to indicate past use. The inside of the ship had a pleasant blue color to it, contrasting with the dark gray exterior. Robert recognized that the internal design borrowed heavily from the armed couriers like the _Keyeri_. The cockpit was in the front in the "head" of the main body, with the pilot seat at the very front of the cockpit while the operations and weapons stations were behind and to the sides of the piloting station. Behind the cockpit was the ship's main access corridor. To either side of it were the personal living quarters, four rooms in total, each one fairly small but just roomy enough to include a small bathroom with a commode and shower.  
  
Beyond the main quarters was the port-side access airlock to the ship. Further astern was the starboard access to the small kitchen and dining area with a table, chairs, a replicator, a two burner stove, and a pantry. To port of the kitchen was the entry to the cargo area and the ship's transporter, all at the lower half-deck level below the ship's main deck.  
  
At the far end of the main access corridor was the ship's engineering space, where the bank of twin naqia reactors powered the ship. Access hatches led to the half-deck below that could be used to access the nacelle plasma feed lines, the plasma reservoir, the heat exchanger, and other vital systems.  
  
The cargo area had a cargo bay ramp exit, and it was through this that Robert entered with Lucy. The cargo area was, at least on a Paladin's ship, the armory and outfitting station. A small industrial replicator allowed for part fabrication, and the wall mounts, bins, and racks had several firearms spread among them along with other equipment ranging from climbing gear to extreme environment suits to personal cloaking devices. "It's like they weren't sure what to do with all of the space, so they just gave you a bit of everything," she noted while closing the ramp door. It made a thunking noise as it shut and sealed. "This must be a hint to assemble your own squad of badasses."  
  
"There's no telling what kind of missions I may need to do," Robert pointed out. "It's no wonder they gave me this much hardware."  
  
"Speaking of missions, just what does Maran have you doing now?" asked Lucy.  
  
"Psi Corps may be establishing a base on the frontier of Alliance space," Robert explained. "I need to investigate."  
  
Lucy gave him a concerned look. "Are your mental defenses ready?"  
  
"I've spent months refining them," Robert said. "It'll have to be enough."  
  
"I'd think a telepath Paladin would've been chosen," Lucy said.  
  
"There are only two, and they're both on long-term operations right now." Robert shook his head. "This is on me. Anyway…"  
  
The two went up the steps to the main access corridor and ventured into the engineering space. "I half-expected Tom to mark his territory," Robert joked.  
  
"Now now, he knows better than to mess with your _Noble Steed_ ," Lucy teased.  
  
"You do know I'm not calling it that, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I figured." She gave Robert a look that warned of further teasing to come. "If you're looking for a name, you could always go for _Rocinante_."  
  
Robert blinked. "And that means?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," Lucy said, although her grin said otherwise. She walked over to where the twin naqia reactors were located. Both were on standby, ready to energize and provide the ship with the bulk of its power. "Well, let me get the system checks started. I'll get your baby, whatever you want to call it, ready for her maiden voyage."  
  
"There's something else I want to ask," said Robert. "What do you feel about Talara coming along?"  
  
For a moment Lucy thought on it, hard. "Bringing her with us to Germania… she saved lives, and I'm proud of her, but she wasn't ready for sensing that kind of darkness. And all of the violence. Noveria and the Citadel were bad enough…"  
  
"I understand," said Robert. "So you want to leave her behind?"  
  
"No, I'm more concerned with having to do that sometimes," Lucy said. "Right now I'm focusing her training on her connection to the Flow of Life, not combat. I'd rather be around to make sure she continues to heal."  
  
"Well, this time at least, go ahead and bring her," Robert said. "I'll clear it with Julia."  
  
"Thank you," said Lucy. "I still have a lot to show her."  
  
"I know," he answered. "And it'll be something for you to do while waiting with the ship."  
  
"You're not taking me with you?"  
  
He shook his head. "This is just a brief stealth recon run. The fewer we are, the least likely we are to get detected. And if things go south I'll want you on the transporter controls to bring me back."  
  
Lucy nodded. "I've got you. Now…" She leaned over one console. "Let's bring this baby to life."

 

 

 

After completing a full inventory of his infiltrator's gear and getting some of his things transferred to one of the small rooms on the ship, Robert made his way up to the bridge deck. The _Aurora_ was under way for B5 now, having completed her rendezvous. Word was that they'd brought aboard one of the _Huáscar_ 's officers for the assignment. But given his own mission, he knew not to pry.  
  
He stepped onto the bridge and gave it a glance. He was used to not being the captain of the _Aurora_ , so there was no instinctive reaction to head to the center chair or ask for reports. He noted Cat happily scanning away at things from her station while Angel was undoubtedly running tactical simulations of some kind. Jarod and Locarno were at their stations as well, their jobs quite important while the ship was at warp.  
  
"So, how's your noble steed?" Locarno asked aloud.  
  
"I'm not calling it that," Robert said immediately.  
  
"Well, there's always _Rocinante_ ," Jarod remarked.  
  
"Just what does that mean anyway?" Robert asked. "Lucy used it too."  
  
At that Cat giggled and Angel joined in with an amused snort. When he shot them playful glares, it was Angel who looked up at him with a wide grin to reply, "It's the name of Don Quixote's horse."  
  
"Oh. So you're saying I'm like Don Quixote."  
  
"Yes and no," Jarod remarked. "After all, windmills don't really fight back. Your targets do."  
  
"But there is something to the comparison," said Locarno.  
  
In the command chair Meridina was listening in without commenting. Now, however, she finally asked, "Who is this 'Don Quixote', and why should Robert name his infiltrator for Quixote's horse?"  
  
"I'll explain it later," Jarod promised. He glanced toward Robert as he approached the front of the bridge. "The Captain is in her ready office if you need to speak with her."  
  
"Thank you," Robert said. He headed to the door and touched the chime key beside it, ignoring Cat's continued giggling from her station as he was admitted.  
  
He found Julia at her office desk. As always, she was doing the paperwork, and with greater relish than Robert had ever felt for the same work. "Ready to go?" Julia asked.  
  
"I am," he said. A little frown formed on his face. "I know you're upset that I can't tell you where, though."  
  
"I understand it's part of the job," Julia replied. Robert could see she was upset at failing to hide her irritation with the situation, she knew it would just make him feel worse. "I just… well, Rob, I'm worried. For this to be top secret…"  
  
"...it could be dangerous, yeah," Robert conceded. "And it probably won't be the last." _This is what I signed up for, after all_.  
  
"It's not even the first," Julia pointed out. "But I know what you mean. Honestly I suppose I should be used to it. You spent nearly two months on the _Normandy_ …"  
  
"But at least you could talk to me when I was there," Robert said in reply. "And I was with Shepard and a team. Now it's just me and Lucy and, if you don't disapprove, Talara." He let the request stand on its own.  
  
"I'll let Locarno know to circulate someone else into the helm watches. Do you want more support?" asked Julia. "Your ship has room for more."  
  
Robert shook his head. "It won't be necessary with this mission. Really, it's just a quick reconnaissance," Robert assured her. "I may even link up with you at B5 if I get done quickly." He said that knowing he would probably not be that lucky, but hopeful nevertheless.  
  
"Hopefully so," she said. Julia got up from her chair and rounded her desk so that she could pull him close for a hug. Robert felt her concern and happily accepted the embrace. "Just be careful out there, okay?"  
  
"Yes, mom." That won him a sarcastic glare. He smiled and replied, "Turnabout's fair play, you know."  
  
"I suppose it is," she said. "Now get thee to thy noble steed, Paladin."  
  
"Right away, my noble lady." Grinning, Robert took her hand and pulled it to his mouth, looking to kiss the knuckles in knightly fashion.  
  
His lips had barely brushed her skin before she yanked the hand from his grasp. "No kissing of the hand unless you shave," Julia insisted.  
  
"Well, I suppose I do have an incentive to shave after all," Robert jokingly said before turning away and leaving the ready office. He enjoyed the warm feeling their teasing was causing within him and her as well. What they shared… he sometimes wondered if "love" was sufficient to describe it. All he knew for certain was that he would fight through Hell itself to come back rather than leave her behind.  
  
 _Just a reconnaissance_ , he reassured himself.

 

 

 

Robert stepped into the cockpit of his unnamed Infiltrator - the " _Noble Steed_ " lettering and icon had been removed, at least - and found Lucy and Talara waiting for him. Lucy was at the operations station and Talara at weapons. "I figured you'd like to do the honors," Lucy said to him, grinning. "Even if we both know I'll be flying this thing if things get dicey."  
  
"I happen to be a perfectly good pilot, thank you," Robert said while easing into the piloting seat. Unlike the _Keyeri_ , the helm controls were Stellar Navy standard. He brought his fingers up to begin the pre-launch systems checks. One by one the ship's onboard computer verified all flight systems. "Pre-launch checks are fine. Now, what's this button do…"  
  
" _Robert_ …"  
  
Mentally he transmitted to Lucy an image of his tongue sticking out at her, which was her usual gesture when someone commented on her own mischief whenever it came up. Talara picked it up and giggled slightly. She'd been around Humans long enough to pick up the connotations of "giving the raspberry". Aloud Robert said, "Preparing to trigger thrusters."  
  
" _Paladin vessel, this is the Bridge,_ " said Meridina. " _Your launch readiness is confirmed. We are decelerating from warp for launch. Standby_."  
  
A few moments later the _Aurora_ dropped from warp. As soon as he confirmed this, Robert triggered the thrusters. The Infiltrator lifted from the shuttle bay deck and, with a key press, moved to the open bay door. The atmospheric forcefield yielded before it, allowing the ship to depart in a cloud of blue light. Once it was in the void the shuttle bay door began to close. Robert flew their vessel away from the _Aurora_ , triggering his ship's impulsors and gradually swinging them around. He did just in time to bring up the view of the _Aurora_ 's stern. A moment later her four warp nacelles surged with light and she zipped away in a flash, returning to warp velocity. "Alright," he said. "Engage cloaking device."  
  
"Engaging," Lucy said. She checked her screens. "Cloak is engaged and all systems still functioning as intended."  
  
"Alright then," he said, tapping his fingers across the astrogation system. "Setting course for Tau Atrea."  
  
Moments later, they too made the jump to warp speed.

 

 

 

The warp speed chart was logarithmic, not linear, which meant that as numbers got higher, the speed difference grew between a set series. As a result, while Warp 6 was fairly faster than Warp 3, Warp 9 was even faster by comparison to Warp 6.  
  
During the following trip, it occurred to all concerned that they were spoiled by the _Aurora_ 's powerful, fast drives. Getting to Tau Atrea would have been far quicker had the _Aurora_ come this way. But it hadn't, and with Warp 6 as their best speed and the cruise speed being closer to Warp 5.8, it took days to make the trip. It was September 24th before they arrived at their destination, giving the three plenty of time for training Robert's mental defenses further and cataloguing all of the gear.  
  
Tau Atrea was a G sequence star, a G4 to be precise, sharing a similar but not identical color and luminosity to Sol. The system had just five planets but two asteroid belts, indicating two potential planets had been lost in the system's primordial formation.  
  
"There may also be a gravitational influence with the outer belt's formation," Talara was explaining as the infiltrator approached Tau Atrea 3, the one garden planet in the system.  
  
"I'm sure Cat will be happy to discuss it when we get back," Robert said. He continued to look over the surface of the planet with the ship's sensors. There were still no life signs, no electronic emissions, but Robert was certain this was from electronic jamming of some sort. He could feel sentient life on the surface. He couldn't make out individual minds, not from here, but he knew there were people down there, at the old colony site.  
  
"We should make as shallow a re-entry angle as possible," Lucy said. "To minimize friction. At our mass I'm not sure even the cloak will hide reentry friction completely. If we do it over the horizon, they'll only pick us up if they've got a wide sensor net, and I'm not seeing signs of that."  
  
Talara nodded. "Do we fly to the settlement then?"  
  
"No," Robert said. "That's too direct. I'll take the camping gear and you can drop me off a safe distance away." He brought up a map of the area and indicated a an area over the horizon from the colony. "I'll hike the rest of the available daylight and get there tomorrow."  
  
"Really roughing it, huh?" Lucy asked.  
  
"Oh, I'll hate it," Robert admitted. "Looking at the local environment it's pretty cool at that latitude and season. But taking us any closer risks putting the ship in line of sight. They might sense us. _Especially_ us, given our talents." He shook his head. "No, I'll go in on foot."  
  
"Your blisters," Lucy said. "And we'll be…?"  
  
"Take the ship further in-system and monitor for incoming ships or communications activity," Robert replied. "I'll signal if I need pick up. And if you see something wrong…"  
  
"Come pick you up," Lucy finished for him.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Huh." She gave him a wicked smile. "I dunno. With a sweet ride like this, I _could_ just go off and become a pirate queen."  
  
When that got her a bemused look from Robert, she stuck her tongue out.

 

 

 

The day of hiking and a night in a heated sleeping bag reminded Robert that when all was said and done, he very much preferred living with at least the option of some climate control… and preferably on windswept prairies, not alpine forest.  
  
The planet's colors were mostly like Earth's, save a bit of a bluish tint to some of the leaves and the undergrowth and grass around him. At night the temperature had hovered at about four or five degrees Celsius, and as daylight broke on the morning after his arrival Robert enjoyed the warmth of the system's star where it managed to poke through the canopy of the forest. He packed up his camp, pulled his pack up on his back, and re-donned his traveling robe before he continued onward. He still sensed life, sentient thinking life, but did not reach for it should it give him away. It was still a distance away.  
  
And then… it wasn't.  
  
Robert kept walking. Under the folds of his robe he quietly removed his lightsaber from his belt. He didn't activate it yet, waiting to see what would happen.  
  
When the attack came, it was not physical but mental. He felt a presence stab at his mind. Without the warning he'd sensed he would have likely gone down right there, put asleep by a strong command to his brain. Instead the presence struck at his mental blocks, reinforced by his life energy, the psionic blow skittering off of them.  
  
Robert sensed the presence of his attacker through that blow and sent a wave of invisible force in that direction. There was a thump of impact against a tree nearby. Leaves scattered on the ground.  
  
"I can sense you," Robert said. "There's no point in hiding…" He narrowed his eyes as frustration and a little reflexive anger washed over him. His finger found his weapon's activation key. The snap-hiss filled the air and his blade flashed to life with green light.  
  
He brought it up in time for unseen weapons to slam into it. He responded by generating another wave of force that threw his attacker back. This time there was no thud against a tree, only against the ground.  
  
While the first presence was still there, recovering, he felt another one move up between them. It vibrated with anger, an anger far more prevalent than in his attacker. It also felt familiar, if not immediately so.  
  
A voice came from the apparent empty space ahead of him, and it kindled memory as well. "Damn metaphysical bullcrap." A human form appeared in front of him, wearing a dark-colored combat suit and protective helmet. Angry brown eyes stared through the faceplate at Robert.  
  
Robert let out a breath. "Hawk," he said.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Distant avians native to Tau Atrea 3 were the only sound that could be heard above the breathing of the two men. Robert held his lightsaber in a defensive position and focused on his foe, using his free arm to unlatch his pack and let it drop, lightening his weight. Roiling, undirected anger filled his opponent, unsurprising given his reputation.  
  
James Hawk was, like Robert, 21st Century North American. His appearance was primarily Caucasian, with a hint of the Pacific Northwest native tribes in some of his facial structure. His helmet covered what Robert knew to be a head of brown hair shades lighter than his own. They had similar height and fairly similar build.  
  
But any being that could peek into their minds, their beings, could never think them alike. Robert was keeping his calm at the sight of the interuniversal renegade, who like Robert was a beneficiary of the Darglans' remaining legacy, despite Hawk's bloody record as it was currently known in the Alliance. Hawk, on the other hand, seemed ready to burst with angry energy. A scowl crossed his face under the helmet. Silvery metal flowed down from the back of each wrist, hardening into metal blades with a quick shriek. Robert sensed Hawk's wariness, and more importantly, the possibility he might strike just to end the standoff.  
  
Behind him, another form shimmered into view, a Human-looking woman in her mid to late 20s. Her skin was a darkened olive complexion, the kind of tan you found in people from the Middle East. Brown eyes focused on Robert and Hawk. Her dark hair, cut short, was disheveled. She was a little on the short side and had a build that made Robert think of Lucy. Twin blades, the same as Hawk's, were jutting from her wrists. She didn't match any of the profiles of Hawk's known crew. Robert sensed the instinctive anger from before fade, replaced by quiet, and the sense that came from a telepath of fair ability. She wasn't at Meridina's power, but she did have some.  
  
"What are you doing on an uninhabited world at the edge of Alliance space?" Robert asked.  
  
"Same thing you are, I imagine," Hawk answered.  
  
Robert knew from the reports Hawk's mind had newfound defenses against telepathy, but that was against "physical" telepathy. Through his life energy and the Flow of Life, Robert could sense something of Hawk's thoughts and his emotions. Anger rumbled around Hawk's being, making it difficult to sense anything else… but Robert could feel his intentions through that shell of anger. "Let's put our cards on the table," he said. "I'm here to investigate a suspected Psi Corps site."  
  
"It's not suspected," Hawk said. "I know they're here."  
  
"And how would you know that?" Robert asked.  
  
Hawk smiled. "While your Alliance is off playing footsies with eugenicist warlords and feudal tyrants, my people are dealing with the bastards of the Multiverse. That includes Psi Corps and those damned telepath camps they operate."  
  
Robert blinked. "You hit one of the Earth Alliance's re-education camps?!" he couldn't help but demand. _Christ, if they think the_ Avenger _was one of our ships…_  
  
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Dale," Hawk laughed. "Our ship wasn't involved. They've got plenty of suspects."  
  
Robert had to admit he had few qualms about freeing telepath prisoners who were only held for refusing to join the Corps or go on sense-deadening drugs. But he didn't consider Hawk and his people the best forces for that kind of work. "And now you're here… doing what?"  
  
"Reconnaissance," Hawk said. "I like to get my hands dirty sometimes."  
  
_And bloody_ , Robert thought, suspecting the telepath heard him given her look at him sharpened a little.  
  
"Besides, it's a good training mission for one of my new agents needing evaluation." He gestured back to the woman. "This is Rebekah bat Gurion. She's from an Earth your Alliance hasn't encountered yet. And as you can tell, she's a telepath, and a pretty good one."  
  
Robert nodded to her. "Is there a reason you attacked me?"  
  
"I didn't intend to kill you," she replied. There was some Hebrew in her accent, but she sounded more English than Israeli. "I wanted to see why you were here. I was going to put you to sleep and probe your mind."  
  
"And it's good practice to test you metaphysicals out," Hawk added.  
  
"Thank you for not planning to murder me," Robert said drolly. While Hawk seemed the same simmering bundle of rage as before, he found Hawk's partner in this mission more interesting. She lacked the clear mental issues most of his other operatives had evinced. On the other hand, he felt a deep pain within her. Pain and guilt.  
  
Of course, there was the reason they were present on Tau Atrea. "So you're telling me you came _alone_ , just two of you, to a planet with telepaths that might attack you mentally? I doubt your defenses are that strong. And if they have even one Psi Cop, or something close, your friend here wouldn't be enough to stop them. At best the Corps will kill you with a stroke. At worst…" _At worst they send you back to your group as infiltrators mentally-reprogrammed to give them access to Darglan technology. Including the IU drive._  
  
Hawk grinned at that. "They won't live long if they do."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"We've set our nanites' systems to a neural deadman's switch of sort," Hawk explained. "If either of our bodies are compromised in any way by telepathic attack, the nanites will engage combat mode, take control of the host's nervous system, and start killing any target within a two mile radius before working outward. They'll only stop if the affected brain is restored."  
  
Robert frowned. "And God help anyone innocent in the area?"  
  
"I'm not saying I want it to happen, Dale," Hawk replied. "But I do what I have to. These people don't play around. And if the Corps wants to play dirty with the telepathy, I'll do the same with my nanites. If they don't want to die, they can leave my mind alone. The same with Becca's"  
  
Robert considered his point. _I'd say he's insane, but it is a… not completely unreasonable failsafe, from his point of view. I suppose_.  
  
"So, give me a reason not to kill you," Hawk said suddenly, his voice angry. Rebekah - or "Becca" as he'd called her - gave Hawk a worried look.  
  
Robert sensed the threat wasn't much of a threat. Hawk's intentions weren't immediately violent, not yet anyway, and his ally seemed completely taken aback by the threat. So he responded with a quizzical look. "Well, for starters, you've repeatedly claimed you only kill bad guys," Robert said. "And even by your standards, I'm not one of those 'bastards of the Multiverse'. So why would you want me dead?"  
  
"Easy. Your people killed some of mine," Hawk snarled. "At Tira. We lost a lot of good people. And you and your precious crew are Goddamned responsible."  
  
Although he hadn't been there, Robert was fully familiar with the Tira Crisis. "You mean you lost good people after you tried to support an attempted genocide," he pointed out. "Your people _attacked_ mine, remember? So you're talking about killing me out of, what, petty revenge? I mean, I wasn't even at Tira. But I've read a lot about it." Robert frowned at him. "You tried to kill a foreign leader struggling to save her people from genocide based on a single report accusing her of rape, then your crew openly joined the group plotting that genocide and used a diplomatic meeting as a cover to launch an attack on our people. You nearly got _my_ friends killed. So maybe I should be the one asking why I shouldn't try to take you in right now."  
  
Hawk answered with a scowl, Becca with a frown that didn't seem aimed at anyone in particular. Robert sensed he'd scored a point and a tender one at that. He also sensed lingering pain. Hawk had lost people he considered allies, friends, when the _Avenger_ was nearly destroyed over Tira. And there was perhaps a little guilt in there, as the _Avenger_ crew had exposed their ship in rescuing Hawk and his girlfriend/partner Helen from the _Aurora_ 's brig, leading to much of the damage they'd suffered.  
  
"Tira was our mistake, yeah." It was an admission that didn't come easily, Robert could see. "I thought I could get the Drazi to back off if we helped the Brakiri take over Tira," Hawk confessed. "And the Brakiri weren't talking about genocide, just securing war criminals still at large and replacing the Tiran government. And after we were captured, Tina and the others… they only cared about getting me and Helen out. Tarinak and Tabir insisted the only way was to attack." A bitter look came to his face. "I'll admit we were in the wrong. They lied to us about the situation with Tira and manipulated my friends' loyalty to us. My friends didn't want to see me and Helen in an Alliance prison cell for the rest of our lives."  
  
_No matter how richly you deserve it_. Robert sensed no deception in Hawk's words regardless. From what he'd read, the Drazi and Brakiri commanders Hawk mentioned were quite capable of what Hawk accused them of.  
  
He felt a thought not his own enter his mind, a voice. _James is not the evil man you believe him to be. He has sacrificed much to help people_. Robert's eyes briefly glimpsed Rebekah, who was looking intently at him. _Please, we are here for a good purpose, do not stop us. We only want to help the telepaths held here._  
  
"We're burning daylight here, and the more time we waste, the more likely those Corps bastards spot us," Hawk remarked. "So how do you want to handle this? Your Alliance wants my head, and you're a big time agent for them now, I hear."  
  
Robert thought on the matter. Hawk was right about the Alliance wanting his head. The Dilgar wanted Hawk's head too, and Robert had the feeling that Warmaster Shai'jhur didn't much care if his neck was still attached to it. By all rights, he _should_ be trying to take Hawk down. Earth C1P2 deserved justice.  
  
But there was the matter of his mission. Given the problems in Earthspace, the Psi Corps putting _anything_ near Alliance space was a potential problem that needed to be seen to. And while Robert had little desire to work with Hawk, and suspected it could be argued a violation of all sorts of laws, he knew he couldn't easily subdue both Hawk and Rebekah and still fulfill his mission. They wouldn't go down quietly and any fight was bound to get noticed, especially with Becca's telepathic abilities being employed. Nor could he let them go about on their merry way. There was no telling what Hawk would do, and how it might complicate Robert's mission.  
  
Whatever his personal desires, Robert knew how he'd have to handle this, while earnestly wishing he'd brought Lucy after all.  
  
"How about this?" Robert began. "Let's have a truce between us. Neither side will attack, subdue, or otherwise do any harm to the other, through action or inaction, until we have _both_ departed this star system. And you will make a promise."  
  
Hawk narrowed his eyes. "Go on."  
  
"You and your friend don't kill anyone outside of legitimate self-defense," Robert insisted. "I'm not going to be responsible for you killing people simply because you have anger management problems."  
  
"Ah. So much for that license to kill, Agent Double-Oh-Pansyass," Hawk remarked. "I suppose you're going to tuck the Psi Corps prison guards into bed too? Give them a sweet good night's kiss on their foreheads so they don't have nightmares about all of the people suffering in their camp?"  
  
Robert ignored the mockery. "Take it or leave it, Hawk."  
  
"Fine, Dale," Hawk answered. "I promise not to kill anyone unless I'm defending myself, Becca, or you." He smiled. "Although knowing the Corps, they'll give us _plenty_ of reasons for self-defense. And that leads to _my_ term." When Robert nodded, Hawk's smile slid away and he said, "If this is a prison camp or an experimentation center, it gets put down. No 'if's, 'and's, or 'but's. We kill everyone involved, get any captives out, and salt the earth on the way out. If you're too squeamish about the killing, I'll let you get the captives while we put down the bastards running the place."  
  
It was an understandable term, at least in terms of shutting down a black site prison or experimentation lab, but Robert didn't trust Hawk's judgement on the killing part. "I'll agree, if that killing doesn't include people who had nothing to do with it. I'm not going to let you murder the janitors or the filing clerks because you feel like it." Robert said, scowling as he did. "And we only deal with the place if we can feasibly do so on our own. I've got a mission, and it doesn't involve suicide." Sensing Hawk's imminent protest, Robert added, "If it is something like a prison camp or experimentation black site, I'll call and the Alliance will send the Marines in."  
  
Hawk spent several seconds weighing that reservation before nodding. His blades returned to semi-liquid state and flowed back into his wrists. Becca followed suit "Fine." Hawk walked up and offered his hand. "Alright Dale, it's a truce then."  
  
"I'll hold you to it," Robert said. He raised his hand and tried to hold back revulsion at taking Hawk's. There was a lot of blood on that hand.  
  
"The sentiment is mutual," Hawk replied, shaking hands with him. "Now, let's see what the Corps is up to."  
  
  
  
  
In the as-yet-unnamed infiltrator's equipment and cargo bay, Lucy and Talara sat across from each other, wearing nearly-sleeveless cream-white vests under sleeveless brown tunics with loose, cream-white trousers. Their eyes were closed and each was in a state of meditation, allowing their minds to settle and the life energies within them to connect to the Flow of Life. Lucy sensed Robert a distance away and could tell he was irritated beyond words. She refrained from trying to reach him, just in case something of such a connection might be detectable to telepaths.  
  
Of more importance was Talara. Her energy still felt off-balance. Lucy could feel remnant anguish in her. The sounds from the battle for Germania echoed in Talara's mind. Lucy reached for that anguish and did what she could to soothe it. _That is the past, Talara_ , she thought gently. _You can let it go_.  
  
_There was so much death_ , her student replied. _So much suffering. And that place had so much darkness…  
  
I know._ Lucy felt a pang of guilt. _I am sorry, Talara. Whatever reasons or justifications I might have for having brought you with us, I caused you injury. I can feel the wound on your mind, the shadow of the stress of that place._  
  
Talara's reply was not in words, thoughts or spoken, but in the longing within her. She wished for the peace of Fala again. The gentle sound of the birds in the Royal Gardens of the Regent's Palace, the laughing children in the great parks of Kelana, the capital of the planet. The soothing roar of the Coran Falls...  
  
Lucy had to agree that the Falls were lovely. That they were named after the fussy man working for Princess Allura? The juxtaposition was hilarious.  
  
_I have a duty_. Those words filled Talara's mind, trying to push away that longing.  
  
_Including to yourself, Talara_ , Lucy responded. _To master these arts and be the Knight you wish to be, you must understand your own needs. Including the need to be at peace within yourself.  
  
My teacher, that is odd for you to say. You never seem to be at peace_.  
  
Lucy smiled at that, her eyes still closed. _Peace is different for all of us. Right now I am quite at peace._ She projected that idea to Talara. _Peace is a state of being. For you, it can be found enjoying the beauty of living things. For me, it can be from the satisfaction in a technical problem solved. And I know you enjoy alleviating the suffering of others as much as I do_. Quietly Lucy projected to Talara the sentiment she'd felt the last day of fighting on Germania, when Talara had tried to use her nascent abilities to aid the wounded. Lucy had to admit Talara had more of a gift for healing with the Flow of Life than she did. And it was clear she enjoyed it. _We both get peace from this._  
  
The recalled sentiment did settle Talara somewhat. _I believe I understand_. A moment passed. _Lucy, our training lately… you have only rarely trained me with the blade for several weeks. Is this because you do not think me capable of learning to use a lightsaber?  
  
On the contrary, Talara. You show potential_. A wry smile came to Lucy's face. _More than Robert, in fact. But I wanted to ground your training in ways to make you heal from the scars to your spirit. You're pretty sensitive to the feelings of others, and Germania left wounds that weren't the least bit physical. Your healing is the priority, so meditation and sensing the Flow of Life is our focus for now_.  
  
From Talara came understanding. They both went silent afterwards, allowing them to focus entirely on the serenity they sensed within the Flow of Life.  
  
  
  
  
The truce held through the crucial initial hour as the group continued on through the forest, moving around trees and other obstacles as needed. The air was still cool but growing warmer. It wouldn't be beach weather, certainly, but it would be comfortable.  
  
Robert thought on the differences between his two erstwhile allies. He sensed the brimming, endless anger around Hawk with ease. That anger seemed to behave as a shield, keeping Robert from easily determining other emotions or feelings buried within.  
  
His compatriot… was not so. He did feel some remnant anger from her, but it wasn't hard to guess the origin of it. Not with the pain he felt as well. As they walked along he finally turned his head and asked, "So, what kind of Earth are you from? Space-faring?"  
  
"Interplanetary only," she replied. "22nd Century."  
  
"Hrm. No superluminal drives yet?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"I'm guessing you're Israeli?" When she said nothing he remarked, "You look that way, I mean. And your name is classic Hebrew. 'Rebekah, daughter of Gurion'."  
  
Again, there was no response. Robert detected no frustration at his questions, simply a decision to not speak.  
  
"Leave her alone, Dale," Hawk said. "She's been through enough crap in her life, she doesn't need you bugging her."  
  
"I'm just trying to make conversation. I could ask the same of you, really," Robert pointed out. "Our analysis indicated you're from a late 20th or early 21st Century Earth, the same as I am."  
  
"It doesn't matter," Hawk insisted. "I'm not interested in conversation or getting to know you, Dale. Let's stick to the job and get it done."  
  
Robert considered a few witty or amusing things to say, but he didn't. They did have work to do, after all, and angering his erstwhile allies wouldn't accomplish anything toward that.  
  
  
  
  
As the three approached the compound, they activated their respective personal cloaks, shimmering from view. Even if an unseen camera were to point toward them, nothing would be visible to any watcher.  
  
At least, in theory.  
  
A distance away, in a monitor room, two bored individuals were staring at fiber optic camera feeds of the nearby forest. It was the easiest job in the compound, but also the hardest; no physical labor, just the need to constantly watch nothing and make sure that said nothing did not become a something.  
  
The catch was that the two watchers were telepaths, and their idea of watching was not quite the same as a non-telepath.  
  
"Don't you feel that Samara?" asked one.  
  
"Jordan, you're just being jumpy."  
  
"I'm telling you, there are minds there. Shielded."  
  
An exasperated sigh was the instinctive response, but given the genuine nature of the first speaker's feelings, the second glanced toward the monitor too. After a moment of concentration she nodded, she was the stronger of the two and now that she knew what to look for... "Damn, you're right. There are people out there, including one of ours." A hand went to a comm link. "Doctor, we need you. There's someone in sector three."  
  
  
  
  
Approaching under cloak was something Marines and security teams trained hard at, since visual gear that allowed for seeing cloaked allies might be rendered unavailable. The necessity was obvious: if you couldn't see your ally, you might walk or run into them, trip them, or some other thing that would complicate your ability to function. In this case, the lack of training together was off-set by the trios' special talents. Robert knew where Hawk and Becca were from his expanded senses while Becca seemed to be at least somewhat aware of Robert's position and provided it telepathically to Hawk as they moved along through the alpine forest.  
  
The compound itself was in a large, wide clearing, easily large enough to accommodate a town of thousands in the middle of a wide river valley. One of the large secondary rivers of said valley ran along the eastern edge of the compound, providing a source of natural water. They approached from the western edge. Some logging equipment was around, indicating a minor operation that probably only cut down a few trees a day. The gravel footpath linking it to the compound provided them an avenue right up to the gate.  
  
Robert surveyed the wall itself with his omnitool. It was made of a gray-surfaced metallic material, a specialized alloy according to his sensors, consistent with materials used in Earth Alliance construction. But it was immediately evident this was not a prison camp wall. There were no guard towers, no weapon emplacements. It seemed to be more of a colonial fort, the walls meant for protecting the settlement within from wildlife.  
  
"This doesn't look like a prison," he said in a whisper. At the mention of the word he felt a shudder of revulsion and pain in Rebekah, enough to tell him what he would likely find in her personal history.  
  
He sensed trepidation and a hint of uncertainty from Hawk. "Yeah," came the whispered reply. "It's nothing like that camp we hit." He started to move. "Let's go see what we're dealing with."  
  
Robert considered the idea for a moment. Could he get what he needed without risking an entry? The answer quickly came to him: no, no he could not. They needed to see what was inside. And he was still not certain he could trust the renegade to keep his temper in check, nor that Hawk's ally would be able to do it, so he needed to follow if just to make sure Hawk didn't harm anyone.  
  
As he walked forward toward the gate, he had a small sense within himself, as if he were being watched. He stopped long enough to assure himself there was no danger present before continuing on.  
  
  
  
  
Gene Hendriks removed himself from the eyepiece of a fiberoptic periscope and grimaced. “They have a mutual-defense pact. Or more of an armed truce. Almost worse, he brought a telepath with him and she’s been… enhanced.” Gene was most displeased. The arrival of James Hawk had seriously complicated matters.  
  
“What do you mean by enhanced?” Colin Meier asked. “Like, Vorlon enhanced, or cybernetic limbs enhanced?”  
  
“Like Hawk is; combat nanites. Captain Dale is one thing, he’ll listen to reason, but Hawk is a fucking maniac. He could go off the rails at any time. I think Becca or Rebekah is the telepath’s name, and she seems like...well I don’t know what she’s doing with him but she seems like a kind person at heart. Don’t know how long that will last inside Hawk’s crew though.”  
  
The other Psi Cop gave Gene a wry smirk and spoke. “Is that your professional opinion?”  
  
“Yeah yeah I know. You wrote the white papers on both of them.” Gene replied in a long-suffering tone that didn’t have any actual resentment in it. Colin didn’t earn his PhD by doing underwater basket-weaving.  
  
“And you were reading through my eyes as I did it. Hawk is a maniac, but he’s a madman with a purpose. He can be reasoned with, or at least it’s worth trying. Besides, if we kill him, the adults in the room might become somewhat problematic, and in either case their allies would investigate and wouldn’t give us the benefit of the doubt. Hawk’s allies in particular are…” Colin paused to find a word and chose two. “...volatile and unhinged. We’d have to leave, and quickly.”  
  
“Alright, you still want Max along for this one?” Gene asked, uncertainty on his voice and upon his mind.  
  
“Yes. It’s about the only way we can guarantee getting through to Mr. Hawk. I’ll go get him and meet you at the blast door.” Colin replied, before reaching out to take both of Gene’s black-gloved hands in his. “We’ll get through this. We always have before and if Hawk attacks without provocation, I’m pretty sure Captain Dale would help us deal with him on principal.” Gene managed a chuckle.  
  
“Yeah. He’d definitely rather be slapping Hawk in irons and hauling him back to Alliance space for trial right now.”  
  
  
  
  
The trio approached the compound gate carefully. There were still no life signs. Robert didn't sense anyone nearby, but he could feel life here. Human life. "You're good with electronics, as I recall," he said to Hawk.  
  
Although Robert couldn't actually see it, a bemused look crossed the other man's face. "Maybe," he said, "but it's not my training mission. Becca, this is all yours."  
  
She walked up and brought her gloved hand up to nearly touch it. Silvery, almost liquid material flowed from the small gap between Rebekah's glove and her suit, composed of the nanites that filled her body. Becca's nanites covered the control beside the hand scanner on the panel, seeping inside and taking control mechanically. Visually, given her cloaking device was active, the control panel simply seemed to become covered in silver material. Through her neural link she directly accessed the functions of the gate. Overriding the security systems took her time, more than she'd intended, but finally she finished her work and the gate opened. The silvery material flowed back into Becca's suit and body.  
  
On the inside was the old colonial compound. It showed signs of abandonment and being left to the elements, but only some; it was clear that efforts were being made to restore it. Rust had been cleared, paint refreshed. There was a feeling of rejuvenation about the place.  
  
Robert consulted his omnitool. "Still no life signs. There is an underground element to the complex, near the center."  
  
"Underground prison?" Hawk speculated.  
  
"It doesn't seem big enough," Robert answered.  
  
"Unless it's for just a few prisoners."  
  
"Then why refurbish the whole colony? This place… it's got too much life to be a black site prison for just a few high profile captives." Robert breathed in and considered the spirit here. He did feel anxiety, some fear, but also a sentiment of… perhaps not hope, but determination. "It feels like something else is going on here."  
  
"Let's find the entrance then."  
  
The three started walking toward the center of the complex along a paved footpath, flanked by buildings in various stages of construction or refurbishment. To the naked eye nothing was there given their cloaks were engaged. There was, however, nobody to see them, it seemed. No life signs, no…  
  
Robert stopped as they approached the central structure. It was only one storey high and, unlike the other structures, made of metal and not quite at the center of the settlement. He could feel them now. Minds, on the other end of the blast door ahead. Hawk glanced his way. "Trouble?"  
  
"I don't think so," he said. "No hostility. Worry, though. And..." He felt it, like a great mental exhaling. A choice, resignation to its outcome, readiness for the worst.  
  
_They have made a choice_ , Rebekah stated to everyone else  
  
Just as Robert said, "Here they come," the door slid open. The space inside was well-lit, backlighting three figures as they emerged, two side-by-side in unison, another slightly behind and seemingly being shielded by the other two. As they stepped out from under the shelter of the entryway, three men came into easy view. The one on the left was slightly shorter, with an athletic build and black hair. The other was slightly taller, slightly larger, with a close-crop of something that could be a sandy blonde. The individual in the back was older with hair the color of steel partially covered by a kippah. All three of them wore black, with black gloves and the silver-on-copper badges of the Psi Corps, though the two in front wore the unmistakable uniforms of Metapol. They were Psi Cops, both carrying side-arms, but with hands clearly visible and pointedly away from their weapons.  
  
Robert heard the metallic shriek of Hawk's nanite blades and held an arm up. "No," he insisted in a whisper. "They have no hostile intent."  
  
Hawk gave him a skeptical look. _He is correct_ , Becca assured him mentally behind her shields. With her support Hawk relented. His blades slid back into the back of his wrists.  
  
“Captain Dale is correct. We really would rather not fight you. But if you make us, we won’t shrink from it. I’m Dr. Colin Meier, a forensic psychologist with Metapol. We can all sense your minds, we could fight you hand to hand if we had to even cloaked. You might as well be visible.” Colin spoke in an accent that was vaguely european, hints of German, French, and something Slavic touched various syllables. As if to prove his point, he changed position, closing off a possible avenue of approach to the older gentleman behind him. His diction was clipped, he was trying very hard to remain calm.  
  
Robert considered the greeting. He reached a hand to his belt and disengaged his personal cloak, wavering into view. "Doctor Meier," he said politely, after which he glanced to the empty space where he knew Hawk was standing. "He's right, you know."  
  
A moment later Hawk wavered into view. Becca did as well.  
  
“Thank you. I would first like to assure you that this place is not a prison camp or an experimental facility. It is something else entirely, and not a threat to your Alliance or, I hope, it’s interests.”  
  
"Then what are you hiding in a place like this?" Hawk demanded.  
  
“A refugee camp.”  
  
The cool mid-morning air was broken by the sound of laughter. Robert glanced back to Hawk with a look of some confusion, while Hawk smiled and continued laughing for a moment. Finally it ended with him asking, "You came out here, all the way to the edge of Alliance space, and brought all of this stuff just to build a _refugee camp?_ " Incredulousness was thick in his voice and words.  
  
Robert took a moment to consider what he felt before insisting, "There's no deception from them. He's telling the truth, or at least what he thinks is the truth."  
  
Hawk turned to Becca. "They're stronger than me," she said, "but their blocks aren't hiding intent. Captain Dale is correct."  
  
"Hmph," was the only reply Hawk would give.  
  
“Clearly, one is supposed to build a refugee camp in the middle of hostile territory where non-combatants will be under threat from the the enemy, and with no provisions for long-term habitation whatsoever.” Colin replied, dripping with derisive sarcasm.  
  
“Besides, if this were really a black-ops site, we would have already fragged your minds,” the other one said on Colin’s heels in an accent that sounded like it was from the Northwest or Pacific Northwestern United States.  
  
Robert felt the anger spike at the apparent threat. Hawk's wrist blades came back out in silvery streaks. "Try it," he said, voice heated and in clear challenge. "Touch my brain and everybody in this compound dies."  
  
Robert felt the thoughts surge to the top of Hawk's being, the thought of the "failsafe" setting of his nanites. Those were thoughts that the Psi Corps members couldn't help but pick up on.  
  
Colin looked at his partner with an affectionate version of a ‘not helping’ expression. The other man returned it with a sheepish look. _Sorry. I really don’t like him.  
  
I know… but right now I’d rather not risk the capability of that failsafe…_  
  
Robert whirled on Hawk. "Stand down," he demanded, his expression determined and his eyes glaring at his "partner". "This isn't self-defense, and I don't have to remind you of our terms."  
  
Hawk returned the glare before the blades once again became silvery fluid that seeped back into his wrists.  
  
Neither telepath moved through the entire exchange, but their eyes narrowed on Hawk, and Robert could feel something, like a hammer poised to strike. He turned his attention back to them. He eschewed his physical senses for the senses gained from his connection to the Flow of Life. He felt the presences of the telepaths there, especially that of the two Psi Cops. They flowed about and around each other, thoroughly intertwined. Robert nodded once. "Would you mind introducing your spouse, Doctor Meier?" he asked.  
  
Hawk raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  
  
“Ah, yes! My apologies. That was rude of me. This is my partner Gene Hendriks, yes, both senses of the term.”  
  
“Hello. I didn’t actually intend to make you feel threatened Mr. Hawk, I meant that comment literally. We’ve been using optical means to observe you for a while. We could have killed you with no risk of your failsafe.” Gene followed up, but he still had a psionic Sword of Damocles ready in case Hawk suddenly snapped.  
  
_Which is why I felt like I was being watched_ , Robert thought. "I thought someone was watching, but you've done very well to hide your presence," he said. _And with no hostile intent, so it didn't make me feel like I was in danger_ he added mentally, not particularly worried about hiding the thought from them.  
  
_Of course not. Though I admit we seriously considered killing Mr. Hawk. But that would have caused problems so, here we are._ Colin said into Robert’s mind. _He might still make us. We’ll find out._  
  
"The Corps allows gay men to marry?" Hawk asked, sounding bewildered. "What about that eugenics program you people have going on? Breeding more powerful telepaths for the glory of the Corps?"  
  
“Those laws are _inflicted_ on us by mundanes.” Colin answered with particular loathing. “We had to internalize it somehow in a century and a half. As for us, the law specifies that any pregnancies must have a substantial likelihood of producing children of at least the rating of the strongest parent.”  
  
“We’re a loophole. No pregnancy, no problem.” Gene finished for Colin “Though we do both contribute to the next generation through sperm donation.”  
  
"Given how paranoid the Earthers of this universe are about telepaths, I'm surprised they _want_ stronger ones," Robert remarked. He looked past them to the older gentleman in the kippah. " _Shabbat shalom_ ," he said to him. Becca, for her part, merely said, " _Shalom_."  
  
“ _Shabbat shalom_ ” the older man replied. “I’m Max Cohen, Psi Corps Legal Division, attached to Metapol. You’re in luck, it actually is a Friday here. Otherwise I’d have to correct you and that would be awkward."  
  
"Rabbi Soloveitchik always warned me to be careful about that," Robert said amiably. "Any correction would have been gladly accepted."  
  
“I imagine it gets difficult to keep track of with so many universes. Holidays must be completely _mishegas_.” Max rejoined cheerfully.  
  
Robert chuckled in reply to that. "It's something we've all been getting used to. It's not easy to have 19th Century people living on a planet at the start of the 21st, then everyone swaps over to the 27th for the official Alliance calendar."  
  
"So much for the lunisolar calendar...To answer your question, it isn’t so much that they want stronger telepaths as we’re just too useful to have otherwise. The Earth Alliance was born in a global war, it doesn’t forget its roots.” Max supplied, and nobody could miss Becca's instinctive revulsion of the term "global war". “Plus, we found our own reasons.” Robert felt a deeper passion in what Max was saying, a zeal for his mission and cause.  
  
Robert glared toward Hawk a moment before Hawk could say what he was thinking, a thought about the rogues who didn't want to be compelled into a breeding program. "I understand the thought, but have you ever heard of diplomacy?"  
  
"Get out of my head, Dale," Hawk said. "And diplomacy, isn't that where you sell a bunch of worlds down river to eugenicist warlords? Maybe now you want to have tea with your new Psi Corps buddies instead of working."  
  
A look of resignation crossed Robert's face. He looked back to Max and the others. "As you can imagine, I've been sent to find out the nature of this place," he said to them. "Mister Hawk here is apparently doing the same."  
  
"We know.” Colin said. “Come on in, we’ll show you around. We don’t have anything to hide here.”  
  
The three men led Robert, Hawk, and Becca through the blast door. The top level of wherever this was seemed to be a combination of an office area and a control room for their protective surveillance center. A Psi Corps sigil was on a couple of the walls and etched onto one of the larger chairs, but other than that it seemed like a fairly normal work area.  
  
A trip down a side corridor led them to a reinforced alloy blast door of even greater thickness. Beyond this were a set of stairs that led to an armored hatch that reminded Robert of images of nuclear bunkers. He sensed the recognition flicker through Becca at the sight of the hatch. Colin triggered the hatch to open, revealing metal stairs beneath.  
  
By this time Robert could feel the lives below. The senses he'd felt before, anxiety, a little fear, determination, all were present, as was some curiosity. As they descended the stairs he felt Hawk tense. He was still considering this a likely trap, though there wasn't one.  
  
The stairs led to a clearing room. Beyond was an obvious mess hall, with tables and plastic chairs and the lunch line. Robert spied replicators built into the wall opposite the lunch line.  
  
“Ferengi.” All three telepaths said in synchrony before Robert could say it.  
  
"And they wonder why we won't sell them the IU drive plans," Robert said.  
  
“We don’t. Our agent who dealt with Quark happens to be a woman. I’m told the rest of his species is… worse.” Colin remarked.  
  
_So much Male Gaze._ Gene thought, rolling his eyes in disgust. _Our agent took shameless advantage of it of course, but I’m told she burned the dress afterward._  
  
Robert blinked at the name. _The bartender from DS9? I wonder how he got mixed up with extrauniversal trading_.  
  
“His cousin is a weapons dealer. Owns his own moon.” Gene said. In addition to the replicators, posters lined the walls. Some of them were distinctly martial or patriotic. One of them had a man, an older gentleman with Turkic features in a black suit wearing the badge and gloves of the Corps. He was pointing leftward. In the background was another man this time more stylized and in partial silhouette holding a torch against a background of stars. It read “The Future is Our Liberation!” Another poster was almost large enough in length to be a mural and had many people of all colors and a kaleidoscope of modes of dress, all holding hands on a background of a flags with the greek letter Psi. Its text read “We Are Stronger Together!” in a multitude of languages. A third depicted a telepath cowering before the raised fists of a mundane, with another telepath interposed herself, a shining pulse of light rising from her head. “What Hurts One Hurts All. You Are Your Brother’s Keeper.”  
  
The posters over by the lunch line were far more prosaic. One of them showed a young telepath resolutely turning aside an offered extra serving of cake in favor of brussels sprouts “A Healthy Body Keeps a Strong Mind!”. A second encouraged telepaths to exercise through a pleasant montage of fun activities painted in vivid but slightly abstract watercolors.  
  
"No room for the 'Big Brother is Watching' posters?" Hawk asked pointedly.  
  
"They're at least more interesting than the kind of posters I saw in public school," Robert said. "Although they do look familiar." He also got the impression that they were far more important to the three telepaths than their mere meaning. Just looking at them made all three both happy and sad, like a bittersweet memory.  
  
_The artist was a friend._ Was all Colin said. But friend didn’t exactly convey the full meaning. The look on Becca's face was particularly pained. She knew full well what drove those bittersweet feelings, and it brought up memories of loss for herself.  
  
“There’s no need for those.” Gene replied to Hawk in irritated tones. “The art style is flagrantly stolen from the former Warsaw Pact nations. We’re commonly thought of as _fascists_ ,” he practically spat the word like it left a vile taste in his mouth, “but we’re actually syndicalists in practice. The posters are part social messaging, part century-old in-joke, and at this point they’re something of a cultural thing. It’s just what we do.”  
  
“You should see the sculpture…” Colin remarked “It’s magical. We prefer bronze or copper, obviously.”  
  
"Communists instead of Fascists. I feel so much better already," Hawk muttered sarcastically.  
  
“Syndicalists, different thing.” Max corrected him “The Corps is basically one giant cradle-to-grave union. We modeled ourselves off Israeli _Kibbutzim_.”  
  
The three Corps telepaths felt the rush of thought and memory from Becca at the term, glimpses of a happy place and childhood memories. Robert felt loss and pain ripple through her being, even if facially she was keeping a neutral expression.  
  
They moved past the mess hall into the rest of the bunker. Robert could make out rooms with desks, although not many, that made him think of classrooms. Another area had beds and medical equipment - an infirmary - and there were storage rooms as well.  
  
The big double doors ahead opened as Colin stepped up to them. Beyond the doors was an upper level, a balcony floor overlooking a large, fully lit chamber.  
  
Inquisitiveness, curiosity, anxiety, fear, it all hit Robert as he approached the railing where Colin was standing. He looked below to see neat lines of bunk beds, three high, of plastic frames with dark comforters and white sheets. Across the chamber, groups of people were gathered, in great or small concentrations, with children milling about with frustrated energy. All the colors possible to Humanity were represented in the crowd below. Heads turned toward them, some looking at the new arrivals continually while others eventually returned to whatever business they were doing. Robert felt their emotions just as he felt Hawk's surprise. _This is… not what I expected_.  
  
_It’s alright. You’re safe._ Colin said to the lot of them non-verbally.  
  
_Captain Dale, if you let Hawk make a liar out of my husband, I will kill you just after Hawk._ Gene said.  
  
Robert glanced to Gene at that and nodded. _If I let him hurt these people without dying first, I'd deserve it.  
  
You do not need to worry_ , Rebekah responded. _James will not harm civilians._  
  
It took a bit of will for Robert to not remind her of what happened to the civilians on Earth C1P2, but he bit back the remark. The awkward expression that came to her face told him she'd still sensed the remark as a thought.  
  
“We had to evacuate the entire population of Omega VII, plus a few high-risk individuals from other worlds. We did a bit too well making Omega VII a decent place to live after the Civil War.” Colin said. “Dealt with a serial killer, a slavery ring. Started rebuilding schools that got expropriated after we got kicked off planet. We found every blip who needed help and got them food, training… safety. Every child. I mean _every_ child off Sleepers. Then rogue telepaths started hitting us. We could stop them at first but… with EarthGov actively hindering intelligence gathering it was impossible to stop them forever and we had to leave our home.”  
  
Robert nodded. _Damn you Lyta_ , he thought. _Why couldn't you have just gone to the Free Colony and lived in peace like I asked?  
  
Because she’s fucking insane. To use a professional term. _ Colin thought back. _The really sad part is that when I knew her, she was always so kind…_ A mental image flashed into Robert's mind of a small child around the age of six or seven being pushed on a swing by an older girl with fiery red hair.  
  
"I'll be damned," Hawk muttered.  
  
Robert refrained from echoing a sentiment that the likelihood was good Hawk already was damned. "You clearly didn't want anyone to find you," he said. "That's the only reason I'm down here, isn't it? Better me than a military force coming down."  
  
“Basically. You we can reason with, but the two of us can’t stay here forever. We’re here to get the defenses set up, and get everyone trained in community defense. Then...” Gene paused, considering. “Your Alliance already knows about the fleet so fuck it. We’re joining up with our ground forces. Most of our old support staff is already with the fleet in some capacity.”  
  
Robert felt a certain feeling in Colin as he spoke, echoed in Gene, a common concern inside of them. The reference to ground forces made him look to Colin. "This place… it's big enough for a larger population than this," he noted. "The compound too. You can house over three times the telepaths you have now if you needed to. If you've got replicators, you could even expand the compound. These aren't the only people who are coming, are they?"  
  
“No. It’s not. We're getting more ourselves. And there are others, but that information is compartmentalized. I don’t know where they all are. None of us do. That way, if one is compromised, we don’t lose everyone.”  
  
"A system of redoubts," Hawk said. "Fortresses for your civilians. Over a few bombings? I didn't think you Corps types scared so easy."  
  
Robert knew he had a point, but he let their hosts answer.  
  
“No,” Max replied angrily. “The bombings we could handle even if the recent one on Mars killed twenty thousand innocent people. We haven’t seen an organized terrorist underground like this since 2189, but we know how to deal with it. What we’re moving our civilians for is _worse_ ”  
  
Robert felt sick as he picked up the thought coming from Max. The word in it. The related imagery, which felt exceptionally strong in Max's mind as if he'd lived it himself. "That's what this is all for, isn't it?" he asked. "What you're facing now."  
  
“Genocide, yes.” Max replied. “ _Again._ ”  
  
Becca paled at the word. Robert sensed guilt and fear inside of her.  
  
For a moment Robert gave no reaction to Max confirming his thoughts. The instinctive one was a mental denial that it would be permitted to happen. _The Alliance won't stand for it. Sheridan won't either. We'll move in, we'll stop it…  
  
...unless Sheridan allows his distrust of the Corps to hold him back too long. Unless Pensley screams about military radicals provoking wars of intervention and Davies and Hawthorne howl about Earth's populace "defending itself" from telepathic tyrants, and they delay our efforts… and any delay could kill millions..._  
  
Another's voice came into Robert's mind. _We have no faith in Sheridan, he’s a bigot and a god-damned war-criminal. Metapol fought with him in the Shadow War, he helped us rescue a hundred telepaths who were rigged into a mind-machine interface to become CPUs in Shadow ships. During the Civil War, they smuggled thirty those same telepaths - medical patients - onto Loyalist ships over Mars. They disrupted ship systems, allowing Sheridan to bypass that fleet. Every last innocent telepath died._ Colin mindcast back at Robert.  
  
_Lyta said about the same thing, but she didn't mention that_ , Robert thought. _Did they consent, could he…  
  
No_ was the only response he got back, replete with disgust. _And Lyra collaborated._  
  
Robert thought about Lyta's comment to him, how Sheridan had used her and thrown her away. The comparison of Sheridan to Maran he'd held in his head cracked slightly. _Maran would never do something like this_. _Never.  
  
Telepaths as weapons…_ A cold anger came from Becca, an anger that had to come from personal experience.  
  
Hawk gave her an intent look although, unlike her, he was not privy to this telepathic conversation. There was clear sympathy in it. Next he looked at Max with utter bewilderment. "What in the hell are you talking about?" Hawk demanded. "Are you telling me you believe Earth's actually going to genocide its telepath population?"  
  
“They have before. What the hell do you think these badges are?” Max replied dryly.  
  
"A marker to say you're a good little Psi Corps drone," Hawk replied immediately and quite sarcastically. A little too immediately, Robert felt, as if he wanted to avoid the question. Or as if he already knew the answer.  
  
All three telepaths stared at Hawk, dumbfounded. Colin glyphed a mental image to Robert of a man dodging bullets labeled ‘the point’ by bending over backwards underneath their arcs in slow-motion.  
  
"You know what he's saying, James," Becca said in a hollow voice.  
  
"They're yellow stars," Robert said, beating Max to the punch. "Yellow Stars of David, just like the Nazis forced Jews to wear." He gave a cautious look to the still-pale Becca. "So that the group you're persecuting 'can't hide'. To Otherize them, make them easier to hate." _And then the Nazis exterminated them. Almost completely in one universe_. Robert had the random thought about how Arik Shaham would respond to this when they next spoke to each other.  
  
There was a moment when Hawk nearly argued about it. But beneath the roiling anger that seemed to permeate his being, Robert felt his mind process those facts and come to the same conclusion. His expression turned dour. "Great, more evil bastards to kill," he muttered.  
  
Max sighed. “Look, our relationship with mundanes has always been… very bad. However, when the director of the Psi Corps endorsed Clark in the 2258 election, in our name, it broke the charter. Our social contract with mundanes that secured our existence after the last paroxysm of mass killing.”  
  
Robert nodded. "They started seeing the Corps as part of a fascist government, reinforcing stereotypes."  
  
"Well, the Corps endorsed Clark," Hawk remarked. "Given what he did, I can see why people are pissed off about it."  
  
“No” Colin fired back. “First of all, by that point they were already voting in a fascist vice president for a second term. It was the mere perception of our engagement in politics that did it. Under the charter, we must be politically neutral. No political speech, we can’t even vote.”  
  
_Just like_ … Robert sensed Becca cut off the thought before she could complete it.  
  
“The director isn’t a telepath. He’s a mundane. York was appointed for life by the Senate and he’s a dictator in his own right. He can have any one of us killed without due process of any kind.” Max added. “He endorsed Clark in our name, without consultation, knowing what that meant.”  
  
"You're a ghetto as much as an institution," Robert said. "And he's the SS officer assigned to watch over you."  
  
_Not an exact analogy. Every incarnation of fascism has its own national flavor, but it’s close enough for corporate work._ Max replied in Robert’s mind.  
  
Hawk said nothing, but Robert felt remaining skepticism. He could, to a degree, understand it. Hawk had seen Psi Corps as its worst, and at its most powerful, the operators of what was essentially a part-concentration camp, part-re-education camp for telepaths who resisted the laws, who refused to join the Corps. To think that the same people operating said camps were themselves the targets of an imminent genocide?  
  
“We’ve been planning a revolution for a while, Mr. Hawk. In secret, even from most of us, ever since the charter was signed. It’s one of the reasons we’ve accepted the eugenics program. The price for our lives has been every right of sapient beings. We just haven’t been ready. We still aren’t. I can show you what happened last time, if you’ll let me.”  
  
Robert nodded in consent, feeling the honesty in Max. Hawk was clearly mulling the offer over for a moment before nodded quietly. There was a confidence in him; if anything, he was certain the Psi Cops wouldn't risk the lives of their charges by trying to attack him mentally. Not with Becca ready to protect him and the failsafe a threat. When Max looked to her, she shook her head, as if she already knew something of what he would show her.  
  
Max closed his eyes, and projected memories into both of their minds, memories that were every bit as real to him as his own. In one, a six year old girl was shot in the abdomen and thrown into a shallow pit after p’hearing the mindscreams of her own mother and brother’s deaths, the nauseating open-and-shut sensation of souls departing the mortal coil. Somehow, she managed to dig herself out and crawl to the shelter of a nearby Catholic church where the priest dragged her inside.  
  
In another memory, a mother watched and experienced-by-proxy her own children being torn apart by dogs.  
  
In yet another, a young man who’d managed to escape watched from a treeline as telepaths held at gunpoint were tied together and thrown into the the Danube River weighed down by a concrete slab. He felt their minds in panic, then slowly, one by one, he felt them subside; punctuated by that mindscream and open-shut sensation.  
  
Memory after memory, over and over again. There were dozens of them, every last one of them telepaths and almost all of them Jews. But there was one more he added at the end. One Colin had transferred to him. A pair of _Hyperion-_ class heavy cruisers in Psi Corps colors; the _PCS Fenrir_ and its sister ship the _PCS Sleipnir_. He showed them the associated memories too, of Psi Corps ships seizing a slaver vessel, rescuing those inside, and throwing the perpetrators out airlocks. Of those same ships crippling and boarding a Narn _G’Quan_ -class heavy cruiser to interrogate and then execute the crew and find where those same telepaths were to be taken. Then, finally, finding the experimental station and liberating every telepath from Omega VII who was still alive when they got there. The collective grief of two Psi Cops and forty marines, mourning the ones they couldn’t save, whose souls they could still feel traces of in the lab equipment and box of human ashes they retrieved for burial. None of the victims had even been twenty years old.  
  
Memory by memory, and they added to those Robert already had of evil and depravity. The concentration camps in Nazi space, the mass graves, all of the horrors he'd seen during those early years in the Facility. They were, if anything, a reminder of why he'd taken up this life, why he'd agreed to this duty and all of its dangers. He could even understand the fury that led to the spacing of the slavers, though he likely would not have done it himself.  
  
"You're a repository," he said to Max, his green eyes shining with tears. "You chose to carry these memories as if they were your own."  
  
“Yes. It’s something particular to the Jewish community within the Corps, though I know of a few others who’ve done it along family lines and I suspect other despised ethnic groups have as well. We volunteer for it, even though it gives us PTSD. We don’t all do it, not even most… but we make sure that there are enough that it can’t ever be forgotten. I added those last ones because… well, we have been planning that revolution for a long time.”  
  
“After a hundred and fifty years of hatred, oppression, and death; we’re better prepared than we’ve ever been but we’re still outnumbered a thousand to one.” Colin followed up, and reached down to grip Gene’s hand.  
  
“We’re not dying on our knees. Not this time.” Gene’s voice was as hard as steel.  
  
Robert nodded in understanding, fully comprehending the scope of Max's sacrifice to be a living witness to past horrors. Beside him, Becca's eyes were focused on Max with admiration.  
  
Robert's attention to Max was drawn away by a sudden feeling he felt nearby. A powerful, overwhelming source of raw empathy for suffering. Robert turned his head and faced Hawk. He stared in astonishment.  
  
Hawk… was weeping.  
  
He wasn't sobbing or crying. No sounds came from his throat. But his tears streamed steadily down his face, following the curvature of his cheeks and the ends of his mouth before disappearing from view where his faceplate ended just above his chin. From within the constant din of anger that Robert always felt around Hawk, empathy and sorrow were flowing out, as if the memories Max shared with them had broken open an emotional dam around the man's soul. It was astonishing to think of a man who seemed half-mad with rage, constantly ready and eager for violence, suddenly moved to quiet tears from seeing the suffering of others.  
  
But it was there. It was genuine. Whatever his crimes, whatever his behavior… Hawk _cared_. He cared about the pain of others, and he wanted to stop it, any way that he could.  
  
Just like Robert felt.  
  
It was astonishing to think they had that in common.  
  
_The irony is_ Colin remarked mentally, _As much as Mr. Hawk makes us nervous, we can sympathize with that rage. We’ve had to stop each other from indulging it more than once. But Friedrich Nietzsche had some things to say about that… Hawk… he needs to turn away from the abyss. Right now._  
  
Colin took a small communication device out of one of his pockets, tapped it awake and entered a code; then slid a touch-screen slider from a deep blue up the visible spectrum to orange. “I’ve reduced our alert level. Now our little settlement can come to life again.”  
  
Around the bunker people began to move as the change in the alert level was announced by designated members of the community broadcasting a telepathic all-clear. Some made their way to the doors leading out of the bunker sleeping area. Others remained, either still in conversation or waiting for the others to go first, and some of the children still seemed more interested in whatever games they were playing than leaving.  
  
“If you want, stay for a while; get to know us, all of us. I understand that Bester was the first Psi Cop you met, right?” Colin asked.  
  
"He is," Robert answered. "And you might say he left an… _impression_."  
  
Colin winced and rubbed the back of his neck in an uncomfortable gesture. “Yeah, I could give you a detailed breakdown of his psychology but suffice to say, he isn’t the best man for ‘first impressions’.”  
  
_Understatement of the year…_ Gene remarked.  
  
Feeling Gene's sentiment as well as hearing Colin's remark, Robert laughed.  
  
  
  
  
Life was returning to normal for the new residents of the formerly-abandoned Earth compound. Many went to work on the refurbishment project, restoring the buildings abandoned two decades before by the failed colonists, or to working on the settlement's farm plots along the river.  
  
Watching the latter was Becca, seated on one of the rest benches provided for those doing the work of sowing. The view of people working together to plow and sow brought back memories of her childhood in the telepath _kibbutz_. Those had been happy memories.  
  
Unfortunately, not all of those memories were happy. The _kibbutz_ was gone. She remembered the day the end came. The alarms, the children rushed to evacuation hoppers, the view from the windows as flames consumed all that she'd loved in her childhood….  
  
She heard footsteps behind her, not approaching with any stealth, if anything they were overly loud precisely so as not to startle her. The mind behind the footsteps wasn’t shielding itself as much as it could have either and she recognized it as Colin Meier, who sat down next to her.  
  
“This brings back memories, for you, doesn’t it?” he asked.  
  
She nodded quietly. "Yes," she said. "On my homeworld, the telepaths in Israel had their own _kibbutz_ , not far from the coast. That was where I grew up."  
  
“Our Jewish telepaths have some of their own, mostly in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Max was raised in one. I take it things didn’t turn out well?”  
  
"United Earth collapsed. Israel was on the side of the Reformists. Some of our neighbors were not. They attacked first. My people fought to the bitter end to ensure the children of Israel could escape to Europe and America."  
  
Colin winced and she could feel his genuine grief for her and her people, who he considered his own. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. The Earth Alliance made first contact with the Centauri just before it collapsed in the same way. We were unspeakably lucky.” he considered something then spoke after a brief pause. “Is that how you ended up with Mr. Hawk?”  
  
Becca laughed bitterly and shook her head. "No. Not exactly. That came many years later. I was just a child when I saw the _kibbutz_ for the last time. Burning." Becca kept some of her mental blocks up, she had to, but it was not as easy as she thought it would be. Whatever that camp had been like, this place reminded her so much of her childhood that she found herself longing to just lower everything and let all of these minds in. "Everything seems to burn with me around, honestly."  
  
“That isn’t your fault Becca, none of it was. You didn’t start the war. You were a child, and whatever happened later, it wasn’t as if you were the one giving the orders to commit mass murder, was it?”  
  
"Everyone says that. The rabbis, the counselors, my foster parents. The army therapists when I was conscripted into the United Earth army." Becca breathed out. "They were all very kind. Even the army people, to whom I was a useful weapon more than I was a person."  
  
“They all say it because they’re right, I know strictly speaking that’s a logical fallacy, but in this case it happens to also be true. What could you have done, Becca? Is there anything you could have done that would have stopped it?”  
  
"Undoubtedly nothing, unless I am cursed. Then not being born would have helped." She laughed bitterly. "It is the humor of the Almighty, I suppose, that your world's telepaths have fared better as legal recording devices than my own. On my world telepaths were either deviant threats to be killed, weapons to be used, and for some, human beings. But only some. Israel was but one of a few nations to pass telepath civil rights legislation before the War. There are those who said they only did it so we would be fully eligible for conscription, but that is unkind. If still possibly true."  
  
“It may be.” Colin replied. “I don’t know how history differed between our respective Earths. In ours, Israel and Germany, New Zealand, and a few other nations resisted the laws that oppress us. At least for a while. The governments also tried to suppress the killings. That said, I don’t believe for a second that you’re cursed and… if you want, you’re welcome to stay. I won’t force you, but we consider all telepaths to be family. That includes you.”  
  
"If you knew more about my life, you might reconsider," Becca replied.  
  
“No. I wouldn’t. No matter what your life has been, no matter what you’ve had to do. I, and we, might reject the things you’ve done but we’ll never reject you. Not any telepath.” Colin dropped his mental defenses to nothing but the bare minimum to let her know his thoughts; and Becca knew he was being absolutely sincere.  
  
It had been so long since Becca had a peaceful connection to another telepath that she was tempted, sorely tempted, to open her mind as well, as a cold fugitive in a snowstorm might be drawn to a cabin emanating a warm glow. But in the end she denied herself that comfort. She knew things about the _Avenger_ 's operations that she couldn't risk being exposed, even with Colin being sincere. And if the nanites registered his mental presence as a trigger for the failsafe...  
  
Colin caught the hesitation and nodded. “It’s alright. I won’t press. I’ll admit, I’m professionally curious, but I’m not here to gather intelligence. If you don’t feel comfortable I’ll respect those boundaries. I just wanted to let you know the option was there, and it stands.”  
  
"Thank you for your offer. But aside from everything else… I have obligations."  
  
“I can understand those.” Colin agreed “I have a large number myself. Still, try not to let them consume you. From what I’ve seen of one James Hawk, that is a...concern.”  
  
"Earth C1P2 was… not planned," Becca said. "I was not there, but I know this. Because of it, nobody understands what he is. The good that he's done. They call him a war criminal without knowing the many he's saved."  
  
“I can empathize with that, really. I mean, I do live inside a community that is similarly reviled, and undeservedly. But I’m not talking about that. Not what he’s done. I’m talking about him. He’s...well without going into the anatomical details, he’s burning himself at both ends and it’s damaging him. Badly.”  
  
"You don't say," said Hawk. He approached them from the wall of the compound. His eyes went from a hard look at Colin to a softer one for Becca. Still, both telepaths could feel the simmering anger that permeated his mind. "He's not bothering you, is he?"  
  
"He is not, James," she replied softly. "He is trying to be kind."  
  
"Yeah. He's the kind type, I'll grant him that." Hawk turned his attention back to Colin. "So, you're sharing something with the class?"  
  
“I feel like I should, yes. Mr. Hawk, I should preface this. My specialty is analyzing brain damage to determine the effects of that damage on the mind of a victim and then to determine why the person who caused the damage chose that particular line of attack.” Colin said. “Would you care to sit?” He scooted over on the seat enough to let Hawk sit down if he wanted.  
  
"I think I'll stand," Hawk answered.  
  
"He's not going to hurt you, James," Becca said. "I can tell that much."  
  
Hawk seemed to consider that for several seconds before sighing and taking the accepted seat. He crossed his arms in mock expectation. "I'm guessing you're about to tell me I have _brain damage_." He said the latter term in what seemed an attempt at comedic pronunciation, invoking Cosby.  
  
Colin ignored his flippancy. “So you’ve been told before… Mr. Hawk, you have headaches, all the time. Sometimes a dull ache, sometimes full cluster-headaches. You also experience extremes of emotion that swing rapidly sometimes within minutes or even seconds, triggered even by relatively slight emotional stimuli.”  
  
Becca said nothing. She didn't need to. The sorrow in her brown eyes turned to worry as she looked to Hawk.  
  
The symptoms couldn't be denied honestly. "The doctor on the _Aurora_ showed me a light show of my brain once. He said similar things," Hawk admitted.  
  
While Hawk didn't say anything further, Becca was already thinking of the same thing. The brainwave infusion technology the Darglan had developed as a teaching tool. It was clear said tech was only meant to quickly teach basic information, allowing training to focus on advanced use of the concepts imparted, but Becca was well aware that Hawk and the others used it for more. And fairly often. She'd had two herself.  
  
“As well he should have.” Colin replied, concern evident in his voice. “If he hadn’t tried, I would be making a formal complaint to the Alliance’s medical licensing board. Mr. Hawk, will projecting an image into your mind trigger the nanites?”  
  
"No," Becca answered, following several moments of silence.  
  
“With your permission?” Colin asked, at this point he was treating James Hawk like a patient and not as a potentially hostile maniac. “I can show you perhaps a bit better than a ship’s medical officer.”  
  
It was clear Hawk's initial reaction was refusal. But Becca prodded him mentally and he exchanged a look with her. Finally he rolled his eyes and nodded. "Fine. You can project images safely. Just don't try to override my visual senses, that might set off the failsafe."  
  
“I won’t. It’ll be an overlay on your visual field, a bit like augmented reality. Additional stimuli, not a takeover.” Colin said, and Hawk saw something that looked a lot like a hologram. Not of his brain, but as a diagram of his emotional regulation processes. Boxes were labeled as parts of his brain like ‘prefrontal cortex’, ‘hypothalamus’, and ‘amygdala’. Each one had bands that crisscrossed back and forth between them. The part labeled as the prefrontal cortex looked like it was beaten to hell, and the outgoing ribbons looked frayed.  
  
“This is the system that regulates your emotions. Emotions like fear and sadness are generated in the amygdala.” The amygdala box flashed. “Rage in the hypothalamus. Other emotions are generated by both, and happiness…” Another little box labeled the precuneus flashed. “All of those are fine. The problem is, while they are generated there, the prefrontal cortex and dorsolateral prefrontal cortex regulate them, and those… those are being damaged, as are their outgoing projections into the rest of the brain. Without them functioning properly, your emotions run unchecked. The rest of your brain doesn’t get the signal to calm down, to not be afraid, to not be angry, to let you function through sadness.”  
  
"And what does that have to do with a machine downloading information into my brain?" asked Hawk.  
  
“If I had to guess, that machine is the cause. I’m no expert in Darglan tech, but presumably the _Aurora’s_ doctor is.” Colin shrugged. “I would defer to their judgement. What I can tell you is that whatever it is, this is progressive. It’s not so bad that telepathic psychosurgery can’t help. We can reroute around the damage and restore some function. But if you wait too long, the damage won’t be reversible. I’m not saying it has to be me or anyone here if you don’t trust me; but you should find a telepath you trust and who is skilled in those techniques. Soon.”  
  
"Huh." He glanced toward Becca.  
  
"I'm not strong enough," she said. "I'm just a strong Tier 6. You'd need a Tier 9, probably a 10." For Colin's benefit she mentally glyphed a comparison of the Psi scale her world had used to his own. She was, to him, a strong P7 nearly to P8. T10s were P12 equivalent, 9s were P10 and P11, 8s were P9s and 7s P8s.  
  
“Becca is right.” Colin agreed. “It’s delicate work that requires a lot of control and fine-scale resolution only particularly powerful telepaths can manage. You might be able to get away with a particularly skilled P9, on our scale. No one else will risk it if they have any professional and ethical judgement.”  
  
Hawk was silent. Instead of responding, he stood up. It was clear to both that he didn't want to hear this. That he was, in fact, terrified that they were right, as even now a severe headache was hammering away at him.  
  
"James, he's not wrong," she said. "I can see enough. Every time you've used that machine…"  
  
"We need to," he said. "You know why." With no further words, he walked away.  
  
Colin was horrified. He’d just laid out how Hawk was slowly not just killing himself, but erasing his own ability to be a person, and Hawk had just...dismissed it like it didn’t matter. Colin was ready to die for what he believed in, for the people he cared about, for twelve million others; but he wasn’t willing to put who he was on a sacrificial altar. It was madness.  
  
"He heard you," Becca said quietly. "And he is afraid you are right. But he doesn't want you to be. He…" She drew in a breath. "The Multiverse is full of injustice. He and the others fight to stop it. They want to avenge those harmed by the unjust. The infusions… they help us keep an edge over some of the more powerful forces we've been fighting."  
  
“Becca, you’re not going to help anyone if you destroy yourselves trying. Dying is one thing, but that… it’s actively counterproductive. He’s going to go off half-cocked like he did at Tira because he physically won’t be able to do fact checking before flying off the handle. It’s already started. He’ll cause more injustice than he solves. If you’re doing those infusions as well, you need to stop. Please. For your own sake if nothing else.” Colin was completely earnest and visibly worried not just for the people of the multiverse, but Becca personally. It was written all over his face and his thoughts he wasn’t bothering to shield.  
  
She felt those thoughts and smiled sadly. Slowly tears formed in her eyes. "It is kind of you to worry about me. But I do not believe I deserve it." While keeping her mental blocks over the vital things, memories came to the surface. Memories of brutal battles, of shredding minds in self-defense, of telepaths she'd been forced to kill… and that horrible feeling that she didn't deserve to survive where so many of those she grew up with didn't.  
  
P’seeing those memories, it was Colin’s turn to weep. She’d been through what no living telepath had, except in transferred memories. How Max kept going with those he’d never know. He’d gotten Zara treated for things for survivors guilt, but that was still in the early stages before everything set in for her. There was one thing he did know with absolute certainty: Becca did deserve to live. Every telepath did.  
  
“You have nothing to be ashamed of in living Becca. As I recall, it’s the first unwritten commandment of Judaism. Live.”  
  
Her reply was a simple nod before she stood. She said nothing, glyphed nothing, but her intent was clear; to see more of this place, and to have a chance to think on what he'd said. Colin watched her go. He only hoped she’d take things under advisement.  
  
_Think she’ll be okay?_ Gene asked from somewhere unseen.  
  
_I hope so. I’m afraid Mr. Hawk might just have doomed himself though._ Colin replied.  
  
  
  
  
The population of the re-colonized compound returned to their daily business as if they'd barely been interrupted. Robert walked along the footpaths of the compound and observed as they went about their work for the day. Some were busy refurbishing and restoring the old colonial buildings from the initial colony, others were putting up new structures using a combination of Earth and extrauniversal materials and practice. Since he was not an actual telepath Robert sensed their emotions, their feelings, more than their thoughts. Some were upset, some were simply getting on with things, and some… were actually enjoying themselves. He noticed one Indian woman in a Psi Corps suit with a sari who seemed rather happy with whatever duty was leading her to move along the footpath perpendicular to his. She noticed his attention and he nodded to her amiably. She nodded back with the same intent.  
  
He continued on and nearly ran into a familiar-looking orb rushing through the air before turning a corner. It took him a moment to recognize it as similar to the one Lucy gave him for practicing deflection with his lightsaber. Moments later children ran up, giggling, in hot pursuit of the floating orb. As they passed, however, they all directed their attention to him, as if his presence was more interesting than their pursuit. He felt their curiosity acutely, and he certainly didn't need abilities to notice their eyes starting to focus on his belt and the lightsaber hilt dangling there. He felt a thought ripple through them and they ran on, eager to resume searching for their mechanical quarry. It was almost like a game of hide and seek mixed with tag, if one had a toy to do the hiding part.  
  
_Telepaths playing hide and seek… it must be completely different from how things worked back home_. Of course, living on a farm meant most games of hide and seek devolved to hiding in the barn or the house, maybe under a car. He thought of the time Susanna hid under the combine and freaked their parents out. A small, sad smile came to his face.  
  
And then… he felt something peculiar. His head turned in time to see a jet-black bird that looked like it might be a common crow, and definitely not native fauna, perched on the roof of a house still under construction. The creature was staring at him intently. He focused ever so slightly and sensed a presence through the Flow of Life, intermeshed with the bird. Not like Colin's and Gene's essences had been, but rather as if someone were gently directing the bird remotely through a connection.  
  
Of course, now that he'd sensed this control, it was easy to follow it back to the controller. He turned and walked down a different footpath, finding himself approaching one of the refurbished structures. It had a Psi Corps emblem on it marked with the words Cadre Administration and Classroom Support. Inside a man was looking over a digital reader, a lesson planner.  
  
He turned from that building and approached the corner of the next, another house, feeling the essence of his watcher even as, yes, the bird was in flight and following him. He smiled and said, aloud, "I know you're there."  
  
“Drat. Markus, you’re not living up to your namesake… We need to work on your field-craft.” came the high-pitched voice of a little girl as she stepped out from around the corner. She looked up at the crow who had since landed on a windowsill. “In fairness to you, Markus Wolf has big shoes to fill.”  
  
Her apparent age was hard to gauge, but she wasn’t yet a teenager. Robert guessed at somewhere between ten and twelve, of Southeast Asian extraction with fine black hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a black turtleneck and a functional dress of black denim, but unlike many of the other children her age, wore black gloves in addition to the badge.  
  
“Hi!” She greeted Robert cheerfully. “I’m Zara, you must be Captain Robert Dale, you seem saner than the other one.”  
  
"Well, I don't have a severe anger management problem, for one, although I am often told I have an unhealthy fixation on heroism," Robert answered, smiling. "So do you spy on people with crows for fun or…?"  
  
“Yes and no. I mean, I do spy on people with crows for fun, but this time it’s business. They didn’t ask, but I figured my dads might want someone to keep an eye on you and make sure you didn’t get into or cause any trouble.”  
  
"Ah. So you're an adopted daughter of Dr. Meier and Mr. Hendriks."  
  
“Yep!” She confirmed “Last year they cleaned out a slaver ring on Omega VII. They found me. My biological parents…” she trailed off, leaving that part unspoken but Robert could feel the hurt and sense of betrayal even though she kept her actual thoughts locked behind mental barriers. “It took a few weeks for the Corps to arrange transport to Geneva and by then, well… I had new _better_ parents.”  
  
_Both them, and the Corps. Objectively I came out ahead on that score..._  
  
Robert got down on one knee, given their height difference. His eyes lowered. "I've seen that sort of thing enough in my life," he confessed, remembering every time he and his friends had found children held as slaves or captives for one reason or another.. "I'm sorry you went through that, and happy that you found something better. That's all I've ever really tried to do. Help people find something better."  
  
“It’s alright. It sucked then, and I mean really sucked, I was in therapy for a long time but in the end analysis I’m better off than I ever would have been otherwise. Well, except for the whole ‘mundanes have engineered a telepath-killing virus to enslave us with dependence on the treatment’ thing. That got put down with extreme prejudice, again, late last year.” Zara’s tone was that of a child, but underneath that, she was a kid but most emphatically not a child. It wasn’t her intellect, which Robert could tell from her behavior and through the Flow of Life was razor sharp, but from life experiences that no one went through with their innocence intact.  
  
Robert's brow furrowed at that. "Now that I didn't hear about."  
  
“You wouldn’t have. If that got spread widely the revolution would have kicked off last year. Every month of delay increases our readiness state and improves our odds.”  
  
"You know an awful lot about this for someone your age," Robert noted. "But I can see why." _Did Meier and Hendriks tell her this? Someone else? No… no, I think she figured it out for herself at first._ At least, that was what his senses were telling him. _She hasn't had a proper childhood at all. Not that I blame her Dads. Christ, things here are messed up._  
  
“Your instincts are… accurate. My dads don’t believe in withholding information from someone old enough to ask the question. Not unless their safety or that of others is at stake. Neither does my uncle. I… kinda forced my uncle’s hand while I was still in Geneva. Figured out the broad strokes on my own.”  
  
Robert chuckled at that. "You are a bright girl. Although you can probably tell how much it disturbs me that you're not getting to enjoy anything like a normal childhood."  
  
“Yeah…” She confirmed regretfully “It’s funny, because I am still a kid. I still make-believe and do all the normal things. Granted the bedtime stories are a little bit different for me because I read at a collegiate level. But then, well...” She actually transitioned her facial expression into a thousand-yard stare intentionally “I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate…”  
  
" _Blade Runner_ ," Robert said. "My friend Tom's favorite movie growing up." He smiled wryly. "Mostly, I think, because of the girl with the snake."  
  
“I prefer _Scanners_ for fun, but _Blade Runner_ speaks to me and has better quotes. Though the sequel... it’s almost too close to reality on an emotional level.” Zara replied with a wan smile.  
  
"I never saw the sequel. Actually, I don't even remember one coming out," Robert replied. "But it might not have happened on my Earth yet. It might never, now that the Multiverse is around…"  
  
A bell started ringing nearby, drawing their attention. The direction was clearly from the school.  
  
“Looks like Mrs. Saunders is ready for classes to start up again. Nothing cancels classes. _Nothing_.” Zara declared, and she definitely approved of the dedication to education shown by the Education division. “I’ll get you a copy of the _Blade Runner_ sequel, but before I go… Please don’t let Earth find out about this place. EarthGov is corrupt enough that even if they don’t come in force, someone will.”  
  
Robert couldn't help but feel the fear in that statement, and it was an earned one. He tried to give her reassurance with a small smile. "We're not exactly on the best of terms with EarthGov ourselves these days. Partly for the same reason the Corps' not happy with us, I admit. But you don't have to worry. I'll make sure of it."  
  
“Thanks!” and there, the tone was definitely that of a happy kid. Zara turned to leave but as she did, she glanced back at Robert.  
  
_The Psi Corps isn’t mad at the Alliance just… disappointed. We know your intentions are good you just... didn't get the full picture._ Zara paused inside her head. _I might have peaked at a white paper or four._  
  
He gave a slight nod and watched her go. As she stepped into the classroom with other children, he quietly thought to himself. _There was more to this telepath issue than we thought… Bester, is this what drove you to be such a cold bastard? The weight of this? Or is it an excuse for you and those like you?_  
  
Uncertain of the answer, Robert started walking again. Whatever the issue with the telepaths, he had another matter to deal with.  
  
Hawk.


	3. Chapter 3

Not far from the entry gate of the Tau Atrea civilian compound, Hawk was sitting up on the wall and watching the compound return to normal. His helmet, formed by the nanites in his body, was gone. Those same nanites enhanced his eyesight and, at a command, formed augmented contact lenses over his eyes that let him see as if through a scope or a set of binoculars.  
  
Everything about this place seemed legit. There wasn't even a jail from what he could tell. On deeper consideration that wasn't too surprising, since with two Psi Cops and everyone else a telepath, they could likely mentally program a criminal to stay put. _Or do something else to one…_  
  
That was the one thing that creeped out Hawk the most about the entire concept of telepaths. The very idea of telepathy, the ability to enter minds, to take control of them, acted against the basic concept of individuality. Who could be an individual when your thoughts could be read and your mind altered against your will?  
  
Not that it was fair to blame telepaths for this. They didn't ask to be born that way, and from what Hawk had seen so far, you couldn't exactly turn telepathy off. Not without screwing someone up. And that wasn't right. But, of course, that's precisely what the Earth's government - and populace - _did_.  
  
The fact that the governments on Becca's home Earth were still mostly _worse_ … well, they'd have to do something about this Earth too, he supposed.  
  
_Why is this universe so full of bastards? The Feddies over in S5T3 might be naive idiots about a lot of things, and complete cowards with that precious Prime Directive of theirs, but at least they're mostly good people._  
  
Granted, he'd thought the same thing about the Alliance, up until the Allied Systems started getting friendly with states like the Draconis Combine and the Clans. _When we're done here, we're really due for a visit to Clan space._ He amused himself with the thought of using their precious genetic material repositories as urinal cakes.  
  
But that amusement faded. The anger came back. It always came back, as did those damn headaches. And then he got more angry as he thought about what Dr. Meier had said, and what it meant for himself and the people he cared for. For the entire cause they'd taken up.  
  
While the anger simmered, he heard laughter and looked down. Children came running by, laughing and squealing, then briefly stopping to look up at him. The laughter stopped. They said nothing as they looked up at him in bewilderment.  
  
"Why are you so angry?" a boy asked. Some of the other children gave him bewildered looks, as if he'd just broken a playground rule.  
  
"Why the hell are you peeking in my head, kid?" Hawk retorted in challenge.  
  
"I'm not peeking," the boy replied, his tone defensive. "We all feel it. You're just… angry. So angry our mental shields can't keep it out."  
  
Hawk made a "hmph" at that. _At least the kid's probably not messing with my head… and if you hear this kids, don't even think about it. You'll just make things bad for everyone._ Aloud, he gave them an answer. "Because the world, the whole damned Multiverse, makes me angry."  
  
"But you're a mundane," one of the other children, a girl, said. "What do you have to be angry about? You get to make the rules."  
  
"Yeah, and most of the rules we 'mundanes' make are bullsh… are bad." Hawk forced himself to bite back the curse word. "So I make my own. I kill bad guys and help the people they hurt."  
  
"Hey."  
  
Hawk and the kids turned their heads to see the new arrival. Hawk sighed in resignation at the sight of his other "partner" on this mission. Robert walked up, looking like some ridiculous hermit out of a kung fu movie, with his long hair and bearded face and that ridiculous robe around armor that at least looked functional. He focused his attention on the kids. "A Mrs. Saunders is starting class. You might not want to be caught playing hooky."  
  
The children acknowledged him and after a moment of mental coordination, they headed off to class.  
  
Watching them go, Hawk smirked. "Let me guess. You were always that law-abiding Boy Scout who volunteered to be hall monitor and ensure everyone's being a good little boy or girl."  
  
Robert looked up toward Hawk. Again his essence seemed permeated with anger. "I was never a Scout, actually," Robert said. "I preferred the farm."  
  
"Ha. Farmboy." Hawk jumped down from the wall to face him.  
  
The two men, from the moment they encountered each other, suspected this conversation was going to come. Now that it had, each was pondering what to say and how to say it.  
  
"I was surprised," Robert admitted aloud, finally breaking the silence.  
  
"At what?"  
  
"You." Robert met Hawk's curious look with a contemplative one. "When Max shared those memories with us, I didn't expect that reaction from you. Real, genuine empathy for the suffering of others, from a man who seems devoted to violence and killing."  
  
The anger in Hawk kicked up a notch. "I kill people who _deserve_ it," he insisted.  
  
"Warmaster Shai'jhur shows otherwise," Robert replied. "You would have killed her right then and there if she hadn't been wearing an anti-disruptor mesh. And she didn't do anything to deserve that. You admit that yourself."  
  
"Maybe if her girlfriend hadn't lied about what happened between them, I wouldn't have tried," Hawk retorted. "Kaveri Varma let everyone in Earthforce think Shai'jhur raped her, just to protect her career. And it nearly got her girlfriend killed."  
  
"That excuse makes it feel easier, doesn't it?" Robert asked, his tone searching. His eyes locked onto Hawk's. "It makes it feel easier to deal with the fact you nearly killed an innocent woman, one trying to save her people from _genocide_ , because of your haste."  
  
Unsurprisingly for someone with Hawk's passions, he responded to an attack with an attack. "And what kind of excuses do you use to make it easier, Dale? To excuse what you've become?"  
  
"What I've become?" Robert asked. "Enlighten me."  
  
"I guess that answers my question," Hawk said, sneering. "You and I apparently started out the same, but we're different. I'm still out there fighting to stop atrocities while you've become a Goddamned sell out."  
  
Robert laughed at that. "A sell out? That's what you think of me?"  
  
"Yeah. That's what I think," Hawk growled. "You're a damn sellout. You decided to become a part of the system. A good little soldier boy obeying the orders of politicians and bureaucrats instead of fighting the people who need to be fought. Hell, how many bad people get away with it because it's in your bosses' interest to let them off?"  
  
"The Alliance isn't like that."  
  
"Tell that to all of the worlds in the Clan Occupation Zone," Hawk hissed. "Tell that to the people on Turtle Bay who had their entire city vaped. Or all of the Rasalhaguans who had their country smashed into a pitiful little remnant by the Clans. You shouldn't have negotiated with the Clans, you should have _crushed them_. The Draconis Combine too! But instead you let them join your war and gave them more planets to conquer!"  
  
"What were we supposed to do, go to war with them too?"  
  
"You could have saved them for later!"  
  
"What you're talking about is unending war," Robert said. "Nobody can just keep fighting like that. Nobody _sane_ anyway." The emphasis made clear just how little sanity Robert attributed Hawk with. "And I didn't see you fighting the Nazis, Hawk, so who are you to judge us for what we had to do in the war?"  
  
"Goringwelt," replied Hawk, his tone harsh. "New Saxony. New Baden. Hesperus. Concentration and labor camps on all of them, and we hit them. We hit them _hard_."  
  
Robert narrowed his eyes at that. He could recall reports from intelligence about attacks on those worlds, but he'd always imagined they were covert operations, either Alliance ops or from the Citadel Council races. That it was Hawk and his crew… "You're telling me you plunged into the heart of Reich space _on your own_? You _idiot_." He felt Hawk's anger grow at that and didn't care. "After New Austria the Reich kept fleet units near all of its critical systems. You idiots could've easily gotten yourselves overrun! You could have given them the IU drive, your tech…!"  
  
"We're not idiots, Dale, we know what the hell we're doing!" Hawk pressed a finger to Robert's chest. "And at least we're doing it! We're dealing with the scum of the Multiverse. You? You're dealing with petty crap when you should be out there hunting the bad guys! Dealing with the pirates and the slavers and the war criminals!"  
  
To Hawk's anger and surprise, the response of Robert was literally to laugh in his face. "What's so damn funny?!" he demanded as Robert continued to laugh.  
  
"You are… Abe would call it _chutzpah_ ," Robert said, managing to get his laughter under control. " _You_ of all people are going to lecture me to start devoting all of my time to pursuing war criminals?"  
  
"Someone should!"  
  
"Fine!" Robert got up in his face and the smile disappeared. "Then I should start with _you_."  
  
Hawk's nostrils flared at that.  
  
"You heard me," Robert said, his face now contorted into an angry look. "If you're right, and I'm not doing enough to stop the, what did you call them, the 'bastards of the Multiverse', then I should start with the Butcher of Earth C1P2, James Hawk himself!" Robert felt his own anger increase, as he thought of that burning world, its wrecked cities, all of those plasma-burnt people in the _Aurora_ medbay. "James Hawk," he repeated. "The so-called commander of the vessel responsible for the killings of _millions_ of innocent civilians! Who scoured entire cities with plasma fire from orbit, incinerating men, women, and children! The man responsible for the _dozens_ of wars since, wars that have killed thousands, maybe millions _more_ on that poor planet!" Robert's voice picked up in volume as he spoke. "James Hawk, the war criminal with the blood of _millions_ on his hands, still at large in the Multiverse, still causing unknown amounts of havoc! Yes, maybe I should begin my rampage across the Multiverse by bringing him to justice, or simply striking him down as another ' _bastard of the Multiverse_ ' _who needs killing!_ "  
  
As Robert's tirade continued, he felt Hawk's anger grow even as he vented his own, and this was not surprising.  
  
What did surprise him was where that anger, formerly defiant fury, was flowing. He'd expected to be the source and target of that anger, given he was throwing Hawk's bloody sins in his self-righteous face.  
  
But Hawk wasn't angry at Robert. He was angry at himself.  
  
Indeed, as furious as that anger was flowing now, Robert felt he sensed the source of it, more clearly than ever before, and it wasn't some old wound that could never be healed, not a sense of being wronged that demanded to be righted. Not even the selfish need to justify his violent urges. What Robert felt instead… was _guilt_.  
  
Deep, immeasurable _guilt_.  
  
In that moment, the contradiction Robert had felt before was gone. There was no contradiction between Hawk's empathy and his violent rage. His empathy helped to fuel it, by presenting him with wrongs that needed to be righted, and which made him furious when they were not.  
  
Including his own wrongs. His own perceived failures to prevent them. To prevent the deaths at Earth C1P2. To prevent the deaths that had left Rebekah bat Gurion so emotionally devastated. Wrongs that he could only repay by devoting himself to stopping other wrongs, at all costs.  
  
While he was not a telepath that could sense the memories of others as a physical sense, through the Flow of Life Robert could sometimes feel the memories of others, if they were powerful enough, focal enough, to that being, or if he were connected to them in some way. At this moment, his understanding of Hawk provided that necessary connection.  
  
He could see Hawk rising from his bed, confusion turning to horror as he looked out the window of his quarters… and beheld the sapphire fury of the _Avenger_ 's weapons scouring the Earth. He could feel the desperation that fueled Hawk's race through the halls of his ship and to the lift. His arrival in the secondary bridge, deep in the _Avenger_ 's heart, the locked door that required precious minutes to hack through with his nanites. The sight of another man his age, someone he considered a friend, a member of his family, hunched over the tactical console, face full of hideous rage as his fingers triggered the targeting systems and firing mechanism again and again. He could feel the impact of Hawk's fist on Andy's face, knocking him away from the controls, ending the killing, the words they shared...  
  
" _What the Hell, Andy?! What have you done?!_ "  
  
" _They were never going to listen! They were mocking us! And now they're dead! Every one of those imperialist, racist, bigoted bastards is dead!_ "  
  
" _Christ, Andy, how many people did you just kill?!_ "  
  
There was no answer to that, just Andy's wide, contented smile at a job he considered well done. Defiant at even his friend's horror for his actions.  
  
"Get out of my head," Hawk demanded, his voice lacking the heat from before. Now he just sounded… tired.  
  
Robert returned his focus to the here and now. He took in a breath, stunned by what he'd just seen. Hawk knew he'd seen it too. "It wasn't you," Robert said softly. "You… you weren't responsible."  
  
"I was," Hawk answered hoarsely. "My ship. My friends. My cause."  
  
"Andy Luttrell is the man responsible," Robert said in disagreement. He recalled the man's face from the Tira Crisis materials. Andy had been the member of the _Avenger_ crew sent to the Minbari Warcruiser _Orsala_ for the fake negotiations. According to the notes he'd behaved like a fanatic more than a talker. "Why…"  
  
"We gave an ultimatum to the governments of that Earth," Hawk said. "No more slavery. No more empires. No more autocracies. No more bigotry over racial or gender or sexual differences."  
  
"They'd never go for it," Robert said. "You were demanding they dismantle their entire world, to change the very way they thought. Even the people we rescued from that world took months, sometimes years, to accept our way of thinking, especially toward LGBT people. I think some still haven't."  
  
"They could change the laws. It'd be a start." Hawk's eyes grew distant. "Although I wish we'd never gone to that planet."  
  
"Why did he…?"  
  
"He was impatient. And they were dragging their feet. One of them got a little mocking, insulting. Andy lost it."  
  
"He's the one." Robert shook his head. "My God, Hawk, he… what did you do about it?"  
  
"What I could. I made sure he'll never do it again. He's banned from tactical control. The weapons won't work for him anymore."  
  
Robert almost laughed in sheer incomprehension. "For that… Hawk, he butchered _millions of people_. You're telling me his punishment for that is to _lose his job_?!"  
  
"What else was I supposed to do?!" Hawk demanded.  
  
"Turn him in!" Robert answered. "Surrender him to the Alliance along with the records proving his actions! Give testimony!"  
  
"So you can throw him in a prison cell?!"  
  
"So he can stand trial! So justice can be done!"  
  
" _I'm responsible!_ " Hawk roared. Robert saw tears of frustration glisten in his eyes. " _I brought him along!_ Andy, he… he didn't even want to _hold a gun_ when we started. He didn't have a violent bone in his body! I pushed him into it, insisted it had to happen, and… and then…" Hawk stopped and, for a moment, a sob escaped from him before he could hold it back. "I ruined him," Hawk confessed, tears streaming down his eyes. "He shouldn't be punished for what I turned him into."  
  
"Someone has to answer," Robert insisted. "Someone has to answer for what happened."  
  
Just as he finished speaking, Robert felt the shift inside Hawk. Perhaps he'd pushed Hawk far enough, or perhaps it was Hawk's way to escape the feelings of guilt within him. Either way his anger built back up, and this time it turned external. He glared his eyes toward Robert and demanded, "And when are _you_ going to answer, Dale?"  
  
"For?"  
  
"Well, for starters, your bungling started a war with the Nazis before your Alliance was ready," Hawk said accusingly. "Yeah, I know about 33LA. That was on your head. How many people died because the Alliance wasn't ready to fight the Reich?"  
  
The honest answer was that Robert didn't know. He couldn't. There was, even now, uncertainty about whether 33LA provoked the Nazis to strike at Krellan Nebula when they did. If they'd planned something longer-term, even a month would have meant more Alliance ships ready to fight. Thousands of civilians and ship crew would still be alive.  
  
"Right. I thought so," said Hawk. "And are you going to always use the Nazis as an excuse for why you're hooking up with people like the _Goddamned Clans_. The people behind the bombardment of Edo on Turtle Bay, who consider civilians and prisoners-of-war as, what do they call it again? _Bondsmen_ , right. But let's face it, the proper word is _slave_." Hawk's eyes flared angrily. "How can you justify working with people like that?! They're little better than Nazis themselves!"  
  
"The Nazis were the greater threat," Robert said. "As it was, we barely defeated them in time to keep them from acquiring the IU drive!"  
  
"Maybe they wouldn't have gotten so close if you hadn't bungled everything from the start! And I'm sure that's a real Goddamned comfort to the civilians having those damn bondcords wrapped around their wrists! You should be telling the Clans hands off! Hell, don't tell them crap, put the eugenicist bastards down!"  
  
"So that's what you want? Another war?!"  
  
"I'd rather fight than be a Goddamned appeaser! You don't compromise with people like that! _You_ ** _kill_** _them!_ "  
  
"And where do you draw the line, Hawk?!"  
  
"Anyone who turns people into slaves! Anyone who harms others!" Hawk raged. Robert felt the full force of Hawk's anger, his need to lash out against those he judged evil, and felt a horror at how unbalanced it was. "You should be going after them. You've got the fleet to wreck the Clans completely, do it! Pulverize their ships and wreck their walking tanks from orbit. Liberate the people of Tamar and Rasalhague, of all the worlds that they've put the boot on!"  
  
"And I suppose you think we should attack the Cardassians too, and the Dominion?!" Robert yelled back. "And NEUROM and the Bragulans and the Draconians…!"  
  
"Yes, dammit! Gather your allies and go after the states that abuse and enslave!"  
  
"You're talking about a Multiverse constantly at war!" Robert retorted. "Constant bloodshed! Never-ending, never-ceasing! You can't fight wars that long, not without corrupting everything else! You're a lunatic if you think you can keep fighting forever!"  
  
"And you're a hypocritical Goddamned coward," Hawk shot back. "Playing hero, but it's just playacting. You won't go out and devote yourself to the fight against evil. Because that's what you should be doing! Find evil and stop it! Find the people causing massacres and slavery and misery, and _put them down_. That's the only thing you should be worried about!"  
  
"There's more to existence than violence and killing, dammit!" Robert felt his head hurt and tried to contain the anger he felt building inside of him. Whether it was some kind of sympathetic reaction to Hawk's anger and pain or simply his frustrations with the man, Robert wasn't sure. "When will you understand that? Look at what you did with the Darglans' legacy, Hawk! They created that technology to explore the wonders of the Multiverse! They acted to guide species, to protect them, they even transplanted them to other worlds to give them a chance to survive! They didn't destroy, they _built_." He waved his arm around the compound. "This is what you should be doing! Build homes for people to have better lives! Build communities! That's what I learned from my Facility, and look at what we've accomplished. New Liberty has a population of over four hundred thousand beings now, and it's just five years old! The Alliance is one of the most powerful governments in the Multiverse, respected for standing for the rights of sentient beings everywhere, and it's even younger than that!" Before Hawk could protest the needs of politics, Robert added, "Yes, it's not perfect. People disagree. And sometimes compromise means we have to pick our fights and deal with people we'd rather not, but just by _existing_ , we can show people a better path. Including our enemies."  
  
"And yet people are still suffering," Hawk spat back. "While you build your Alliance, entire worlds are being enslaved. People are being slaughtered. Even as we're speaking here, somewhere in the Multiverse someone is being abused, someone is suffering, someone is dying, and they've got nobody to stand up for them! Nobody to save them. _Except me!_ "  
  
A part of Robert wanted to laugh at the irony. "Hawk, I used to think that way," he said. "That I couldn't stop, couldn't rest, because someone somewhere was suffering and I had to save them. I spent the first months with the Facility running non-stop, trying to save everyone. All it got me were the deaths of good people and a ship in need of repair. You have to accept that we're just human, Hawk. Mortal human beings. For our own sanity, we _have_ to stop sometime, we have to care for ourselves, or we'll go _mad_ , and then we'll help _nobody_."  
  
Hawk simply frowned at him, but he didn't seem to have words. He'd spoken everything he intended to.  
  
"And whatever else, Hawk, your methods are counter-productive to your aims. You're not going to make things better by just rushing in and killing things, it's not that easy! And you won't help anyone becoming this… this brain-damaged rage monster you've become!"  
  
"Brain damaged? More of that?" Hawk guffawed, though Robert sensed that was more bravado than conviction.  
  
"Yes, more of that, because it's the damned truth!" Robert insisted. "You and your friends are overusing the infusers. You're downloading too much information into your mind too frequently! _You're killing yourselves, Hawk!_ For God's sake, man, stop and think! Stop pushing your crusade at the expense of everything else!"  
  
There was a silence from Hawk, a change from the usual instinctive retorts fueled by his anger. Robert realized he was coming to accept the warnings. But yet… he sensed no intent to cease. "I can't stop," Hawk insisted. "We can't."  
  
"You _have to_ ," Robert pleaded. "If you keep going this way, whatever good you've done, it'll be for nothing."  
  
Robert knew immediately that the plea hadn't worked. He felt Hawk's mind shift back toward anger, not quite as strongly as before. "Ah, to hell with it." Hawk made a frustrated gesture by lifting his arms and dropping them. "I'm going to find Becca, then we're out of here. And don't worry about me leaking this place, Dale," Hawk added. "I don't work with EarthGov. As far as I'm concerned, EarthDome will make good target practice if they push it. I won't betray the compound so long as they don't start storing prisoners here." He glanced back briefly. "Truce is still on, by the way. I'll leave you alone until we're both out of the system, but afterward, if you get in my way, all bets are off."  
  
Robert felt him go. A part of him wondered still if he shouldn't have agreed to such a truce. How much more damage would Hawk do in the name of killing "bad guys"? By not stopping him here, had Robert guaranteed another Earth C1P2?  
  
The whole thing made him feel unsettled.  
  
Worse, it gave him a Goddamn headache.  
  
  
  
  
The 5 and 6 year-olds were released from their classes for playtime. They retrieved the anti-grav orb from where it was left by the older kids and activated it. The children were so enthralled by the resulting chase that they paid little heed to Becca watching them from the distance, smiling despite the ache she felt. Such a toy hadn't existed when she was a child, not on her Earth, but there had been similar games among the children of the _kibbutz_. They'd continued playing them even after their relocation to northern England. Until she was sent to the military school...  
  
Thinking of her lost childhood was painful. Of those she had lost, that was a pain she endured every day.  
  
Becca heard another set of footsteps, these somewhat more tentative than Colin’s sure strides, older. Then an older voice spoke in an accent that was almost German-cast Hebrew and when he spoke, it was in that language.  
  
_“Let their memory be a blessing.”_ Max said in consoling tones.  
  
She looked to the older man. " _Shabbat shalom_ ," she said in respect, recalling how Max had earlier greeted Captain Dale. Genuine respect filled her voice at this gentleman, who had taken such a terrible burden upon himself. "An interesting choice of words, Mister Cohen. You and I both know memories that are far from blessings."  
  
Max chuckled a bit at that. “It depends on your perspective I think. Carrying their lives with me allows me to… I don’t know how to describe it… “ He paused thinking about it. “So long as their memories live in me, are they really that dead? Can I not show them the beginnings of a better future, and that their suffering ultimately had meaning? It may be a bit different for you, but I’ve carried them almost forty years. I get maudlin about it in my dotage.”  
  
The idea of living that long with her memories was bitter for Becca. So many of those she loved growing up didn't have that choice. So many…  
  
“What happened?” Max asked “You don’t have to share, but it seems like something you might need to talk about.”  
  
Becca sighed and sat on the nearby bench. She didn't want to talk about it, but since the memories were there anyway, she let them through her blocks. Her Earth had seen a terrible Third World War. The response, in the end, was the formation of United Earth, an attempt to "get right" what the prior World Wars had failed. But United Earth was a struggling concept. The discovery of telepaths helped destroy it from the inability of the government to deal with the panic caused.  
  
The world fell into three camps. The side who were the most anti-telepath were the Dissolutionists, opponents of the entire idea of the global government. Their hostility to telepaths was palpable, to the extent that the leadership were openly supportive of telepath extermination. The other side of the war, Restorationists, were willing to grant some civil rights… but coupled with conscription, and the broad attitude that telepaths were weapons of the state.  
  
Israel, a Reformist state with telepath civil rights, was invaded by the Dissolutionists. Her parents and two-thirds of Israel's telepaths were outright slaughtered by the enemy. Her last memory of the telepath _kibbutz_ was of sitting in the evac hopper, watching the burning fields and homes after the bombers hit. From there it was England and a refugee camp, then English telepaths as foster parents. And then at age 11, it was off to the Continent for military training camp…  
  
Sensing an instinctive revulsion from Max at the idea, Becca glyphed agreement, coupled with a thought. _To the global government, we were weapons foremost. We would fight and die and they would not allow us to be subjected to hate crimes_.  
  
To Max, that attitude among mundanes was all too familiar, because the Earth Alliance was largely similar. The only difference was the existence of the Psi Corps that let telepaths form their own community, and the use of most telepaths in commercial applications. The Earth Alliance had still conscripted telepaths to fight in their wars, without any civil rights guarantees or protections. And when the Minbari War happened, being left off the evacuation lottery. Mercifully, the Minbari ceased their attack before orbital bombardment.  
  
_It…could have been worse._ He thought. Not about her world, but his own.  
  
Having felt his thoughts, Becca agreed. _I was made a psi-hunter at 14. I was a strong T6 and they were needed. The Dissolutionists… they exploited the refugees to slip suicide psi-bombers into other countries. In Dissolutionist-held territory, the only way to avoid execution for a telepath and their family was to become one. To go into another nation and slaughter people in a public terrorist attack using their minds. If they didn't die of a stroke first from the drugs to enhance their powers for the attack._  
  
Just thinking about that caused Max pain, deep in his soul. It was an offense against everything he believed in, everything he was, everything his God commanded and all that was good in the world. It was an abomination, and the idea that his branch of their people could have suffered that same fate without contact with the Centauri shook him to the core.  
  
_I was fifteen years old when I killed my first psi-bomber_ , Becca confided. Memories flooded through her blocks. The girl had been a Taureg two years younger than her, a T5 telepath taught to kill to save her family. Max saw more faces, some generic, barely remembered, others with crystal clarity, twenty in all.  
  
Then came the army and combat service. Automated drones raining rockets down, tanks roaring across fields, chemical and electromagnetic firearms spitting their lethal bits of metal with enough force and speed to mutilate and demolish a human body. The dying minds crying out for their mothers, begging to live, the continuous mindscreams all around her, telepath and non-telepath alike.  
  
Max shuddered. He had plenty of memories of combat, some of them brutal, but none of it was modern or even modern-approaching warfare. The mental screams of the wounded and dying would wreak havoc for a telepath.  
  
There was some happiness to be found. At twenty-two she'd been a founding member of an all-telepath regiment. Telepaths from across Europe and Russia and parts of North America, plus refugees from the other parts of the world. Many of the surviving members of her _kibbutz_ were in her platoon: childhood friends like Avital and Moshe and Haim and Sara. They combined infantry tactics with telepathic capabilities, and won many victories, although all were painful from those lost in the fighting. At least she had the bonds from outside of combat, when the unit was alone in the barracks or field camps, and all of their blocks came down.  
  
That happiness ended in the ruins of the Turkish city of Zonguldak. Their own side used them as a distraction, knowing how much the enemy wanted them destroyed. They fought for weeks, cut off, isolated, scrounging for supplies on the ruined Black Sea coast. Hoppers and boats got only a few out; for the rest it was death or captivity when they were inevitably overrun without any help from high command. They were sacrificed to enable a successful offensive elsewhere. They were, after all, weapons in the cause of restoring United Earth. A few hundred dead and captured telepaths was a small price to pay to crush thousands of enemy soldiers elsewhere.  
  
She remembered the savage beatings. The petty acts of torture. And the drugs. _The drugs_.  
  
They took away the world. Everything became flat and colorless. Food tasted like ash. It was like living death. It was enough to make someone wish to just die, but your body could barely move. She remembered endless days on the hard concrete slab of her confined cell, unable to move, unable to _think_. She could barely remember seeing the others taken. Moshe, then Haim, Avital, Deborah...  
  
That clinched it for Max. He’d been wondering exactly how there were human telepaths in a universe without the Vorlons, but somehow someone had gotten their hands on the genes necessary and created telepaths elsewhere, it wasn’t something independent. If the Sleepers worked, the physiology was the same; and he knew what Sleepers were like, he had his own memories of them, especially the early-versions that didn’t even let a telepath kill themselves to escape because they were literally too sick to do so. He shook, in grief and anger vibrating in place. He wanted to take the fleet and lead it across the gulf of space and time and liberate his people - and he did consider her people to be his - from that nightmare. But he couldn’t.  
  
_Thank you_ was her response to that sentiment. And then the images continued. One by one, her comrades were being taken. Their guards occasionally laughed about it. It was an open secret that they were being taken to be subjects for researchers looking for the "cure", a way to permanently shut down the unique brain structures in a telepath. The enemy wouldn't care if it left the telepath alive or dead, they simply wanted telepaths eliminated, as a threat to the minds of the "normal" humans. Those sent to the labs never returned.  
  
There was a change. A young man half her age was assigned to inject the drugs weekly. His name was Abdullah, a Palestinian boy conscripted for camp duty. For the first month he obeyed, watched by an overseer. Then the day came when he entered alone and triggered the injector before sticking the needle in. He carefully sopped up the hated drugs with a napkin which he flushed down her commode. The days passed and her senses improved, her health as well, but she made sure to continue to act sick. To not let the enemy suspect.  
  
The next week he returned. Again he injected the poison on her arm instead of in it. She'd regained enough strength to ask "Why?" To her surprise, his reply was a glyph. Solidarity. Sympathy. Abdullah was a telepath hiding his talents to avoid being sent as a psi-bomber.  
  
_The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father_ was the only thing Max could think of to say, it meant largely the same thing and he made sure that Becca grasped it’s full meaning. Then he thought of something else because he had an idea what was coming. _Let his memory be a blessing._  
  
She swallowed in reply. The tears already flowing were joined by a sniffle and a low sob as the thought of what Max meant filled her. She thought back to the camp. Mimicking sickness, which was not hard as she distantly felt her fellows suffering under the drugs. She was the only telepath he could spare; the camera angle for her cell was the only one that let him do so. For two weeks she yearned for the day he came to pretend to inject her, if only to connect to Abdullah's mind, to share his memories, his love for his parents and smaller siblings, two of whom were also manifesting telepathy. He was scared for them. It was why he didn't dare risk sparing the others. And she, selfishly, still wanted him to come by, even if it meant the continued suffering of her comrades.  
  
Then he came two days early, in a panic. Enemy forces were rumored near. The camp leadership was evacuating and there were rumors that the camp would be destroyed and the prisoners slaughtered. Abdullah opened her cell and bade her to run while he distracted the guards. She didn't want to. The others were still there… but they had the drugs in their bodies. They wouldn't be able to move. Abdullah swore he would protect them as much as he could, that he knew where to get the counter-agent that had to be used in the experiments. He glyphed his desire to save at least one fellow telepath, so he could face divine judgement without flinching.  
  
And so Becca ran. In the chaos of the camp and with her abilities her escape went undetected. She ran for the nearby hills, rushing up and up, her body straining, her stomach growling in hunger, muscles protesting, trying _to get away_ , praying Abdullah and the others made it.  
  
It was as she topped a hill over the camp that she heard the roar. She looked up in time to see the drone ships. She watched the bombs fall. Incendiaries, which smothered the camp in burning chemicals. Even from the distance she could feel Abdullah's mind, his screams of agony as the fires claimed everything and everyone in the camp, friend and enemy alike. She felt them all _burn_ , burn alive, and heard their mindscreams as they were consumed. And that horrible door again, open and shut and open and shut _over and over again_. Finally she _screamed_ …  
  
And Becca did scream. The pain of the memory was too much. She wailed at it, drawing the attention of passing residents.  
  
Max couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, as he cried with her he wrapped her in a comforting hug and wept with her, projecting love and warmth into her mind, and everyone in line of sight did the same. They didn’t need to know why, only that she was in pain and deserved nothing less.  
  
Becca's blocks melted away. It had been so long since she felt such warmth from other minds. Not since the days before Zonguldak, the last time the regiment was together in peace. Now she couldn't resist it. She let that unconditional love and warmth fill her, let it begin to push away the horrible memories, to suppress the pain…  
  
...and then, in a panic, she pushed it all away, as she felt the nanites begin to trigger. _The failsafe!_ Silver material flowed from her wrists and ankles for a second, nearly enveloping her limbs before stopping at her assertion of self-control.  
  
Max and the others broke off mental contact immediately, not wanting to risk themselves to that, but also not wanting Becca to have to live with the consequences of that failsafe triggering by accident. But Max didn’t let her go either. “Save one life, and you save an entire world… I never thought it would be so literal Becca. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but He saved you for a reason. I don’t know what, but it wasn’t random.” He couldn’t help but think about what the name Abdullah meant in Arabic, literally ‘servant of God’. It smacked him in the face. Colin and Gene both would say it was a coincidence and that it’s a common name, but he didn’t buy that.  
  
She heard his words. She understood what he was saying. But it didn't work. She knew in her heart she should have died that day. She had the blood of fellow telepaths on her hands, and she'd killed so many, telepath and non-telepath, even banals ( _Mundanes_ was the definition for Max)… why should she get to live? Why didn't Abdullah live? Or sweet Avital?  
  
There was the sound of running footsteps. Becca and Max turned to see Hawk running toward them. She noticed he was tense, felt readiness in his anger, and jumped up from the bench. "It's fine!" she insisted, loudly.  
  
"I got a warning," he said. "Your failsafe activated. Did they…?!"  
  
She shook her head. "They were… they were trying to make me feel better, James, that's all. They were filling my mind with affection and love and suppressing my emotional pain. The nanites registered it as an attempt to alter my brain and triggered. But it's fine, everything is fine."  
  
There was a suspicious look in Hawk's face as he glared toward Max for a moment. But he stopped. "I think it's time to go," he said to her. "The mission is accomplished."  
  
“You don’t have to go Becca, you know that. You’ve seen enough death, you deserve to have a life.” Max said.  
  
The sad look Becca gave him was enough to tell Max she didn't agree. Even if she longed for that kind of contact again, she didn't believe him on deserving it.  
  
"A lot of people deserve to have a life," said Hawk. There was a challenging tone to his voice. "Including the people in all of those re-education camps your Corps runs. But you didn't seem so worried about whether the telepaths kept on Sirius Major were happy or had good lives."  
  
“We don’t run them.” Max said in a hard tone. “We’re just held at population-scale gunpoint and forced to provide security. Remember that the next time you start slaughtering people. Not all of them are in your path by choice. Sometimes their families are held hostage. Are you going to start going after our ships and marine corps because the mundanes feed you a line of bull like the Drazi did at Tira as well?”  
  
"James, please…"  
  
Hawk was frowning, and he clenched his jaw. Max had indeed scored a point by referencing Tira, and on a sore spot. He had no argument on that. But she could tell he was still suspicious of the Corps, of whether it would lead to telepath liberation, or continue to force all telepaths to toe the line. "We'll see how this little revolution of yours goes," he said. "You people stay righteous, you give telepaths a choice, and you won't have problems from me." His eyes met Becca's again. "Let's go, Becca. We have work elsewhere." He started to walk away. Becca moved to follow.  
  
_I have to ask Becca, why are you working with him of all people?_ Max asked.  
  
Becca stopped and turned back to Max. She gave him a sad look. And then she showed him the memories, painful as they were. Of her after the fire-bombing, so damaged by the stress of experiencing the horrific deaths below that she nearly shut down. She stumbled away.  
  
Then pain shot through her leg from the slug that ripped through her femur, shattering the bone. She screamed and fell. Enemy soldiers approached, vicious, hateful. One kicked her in the face, shrieking "Witch!" Another kicked her in the stomach. They debated on what to do to her, to kill or drag her away to another camp, more drugs, experimentation, and considered what they might do to her either way. The filthy, terrible fantasies a few had regarding her, the desire to violate and degrade.  
  
And then one vanished in a cloud of blue. The others turned as more bolts came from nothingness, vaporizing the patrol one soldier at a time. The leader turned toward her and leveled his gun, intent on killing her. She saw the hate in his eyes, the barrel of his gun pointed toward her forehead, closed her eyes and waited for the merciful end… and then the sound of flesh being ripped, a shriek of pain, and hot blood on her face. When she opened her eyes her would-be killer stood over her with a silver spike sticking through his throat, thrown by the unseen attacker. The enemy collapsed, dead, joined by the last of his comrades in the following seconds. A presence approached, a man rippled into view before her...  
  
"Are you okay?" asked (and thought) James Hawk. Anger and guilt from his mind echoed in hers. She knew he'd come to save the camp, but had come too late. He blamed himself just as she blamed herself.  
  
He took her away then. To his ship, to the medical technology beyond anything she could imagine, the medical nanites that rebuilt her shattered bone, the replicators that seemed to make nourishing food and drink from thin air. Some other telepaths were there, freed from the camps and eager to go home. They did.  
  
But Becca didn't. She stayed on the _Avenger_ and watched as Hawk ended that brutal war in a night, as the Dissolutionist armies and navies and air forces fell to the weapons of the Darglan-built battlecruiser, as the war criminals who had each butchered hundreds, thousands of innocent people - including telepaths - met their deaths at the hands of Hawk and his friends. All of those she lost, avenged by the man who saved her life.  
  
If she truly deserved to live, this was how she would prove it. She would fight at his side. She would serve his cause however he asked. She would tear through the minds of slavers and pirates and war criminals to learn their secrets. She would volunteer to have the information she needed to serve downloaded into her brain, whatever headaches it might cause. She would, in the end, agree to become one of his agents, to have her body augmented with the Darglan combat nanites.  
  
It was the least she could do for the man who saved her life and stopped that horrible war.  
  
Max sighed and lowered his head, shaking it. He understood, even if he thought she didn’t need to prove she deserved life. _Alright. I get it. But...if it ever gets to be too much, if your conscience can’t bear it anymore. You’ll always have a home to come back to, provided we survive the next couple of years._  
  
Becca's reply was a glyph of hope that they did survive, and gratitude for the offer. But there was no sense it was one she intended to take up. With a nod of her head, Becca turned and followed Hawk down the footpath and out of sight.  
  
  
  
  
With his headache and the general frustration caused by Hawk's inability to see past his own anger, Robert needed a quiet place to re-center himself. He found it at the far corner of the courtyard in what looked like the storage room for the nearby machine shop. After setting his backpack down near the door he found a space in the side of the room and sat down, crossing his legs and setting his hands on his knees, his robe settled behind him so that he could stand easily if he needed to. Once he was in position, he closed his eyes and settled his thoughts. He pushed away his own anger and irritation at the encounter and focused on the warm energy inside of him. The energy of his _swevyra_ , his life, and of the Flow of Life he could feel through it.  
  
The life of this place was not like that of a city, it lacked the numbers, but it was no worse than being on a ship. The Flow moved freely here and its golden warmth soothed the frustration he felt from the encounter with Hawk. It was invigorating to simply immerse his thoughts into it and enjoy the warm feelings in this place.  
  
He lost track of the time in this state. So he wasn't sure how long he'd been meditating when he felt presences around him. Curious, eager thoughts and feelings. It wasn't hard to figure them out, especially when one of the presences was newly familiar. Without opening his eyes he said, "I can sense you, you know." He opened his eyes a moment later.  
  
“He’s friendly, I promise.” Zara said encouragingly to three other younger kids, one girl and two younger boys. Robert recognized them from the group he'd seen playing hide and seek earlier in the day. One of them, a little brown-haired blue-eyed boy of around eight years old had a question he couldn’t contain anymore.  
  
“What are you? You’re not a mundane, but… you’re not a telepath either?” he said  
  
"There's no word in any Human language I know that fits with the term typically used for what I am," Robert replied. "The closest would probably be 'life force user'. My name is Robert. Your's?" His voice remained gentle. He sensed a slight trace of anxiety, save in Zara, but it was the kind many kids would feel toward a stranger.  
  
“Lucas. Lucas Dixon.”  
  
Another one of them, the little girl who was a little younger and of middle eastern stock piped up. “Husn Mira.”  
  
“And I’m Maina Botha.” said the last one who was of African descent.   
  
Robert nodded. _Lucas, Husn, Maina_ , he thought back, knowing the children would p'hear him.  
  
“Huh. So you’re a wizard?” Lucas asked, while the others looked over at him like he’d said something insane but they weren’t sure the question was totally off-base.  
  
Robert chuckled at that. "I saw it like that myself when I first witnessed it being used. I suppose there's some justice in the title, but no, we generally don't use it. The Gersallians would use the word _swevyra'se_." Years of practice had made the pronunciation as close to the proper term as he'd ever get.  
  
“Swev-ee-ra-say…” Husn sounded it out.  
  
"If you don't want to go around tongue-twisting yourselves trying to pronounce Gersallian, their choice for translating _swevyra'se_ once they knew of English is 'Knight of Life'."  
  
“It’s pretty easy compared to Arabic... So, how does it work?” Husn followed up on the explanation.  
  
_Or French_ Lucas mentally added.  
  
_Ich spreche auch Deutsch_ , Robert responded. After that he turned his attention to Husn's question. "There are individuals across the Multiverse who have a… special connection to the universe or cosmos, whichever you prefer," Robert explained. "The Gersallians refer to this as having _swevyra_ , or rather a connected _swevyra_. It means one's life energies are linked to the world and universe around them. We can sense the Flow of Life that moves through all things, binding all life together."  
  
“That almost sounds like something the Minbari might say.” Maina remarked “They believe that the universe itself is almost conscious and that life is the universe trying to know itself.”  
  
"That's entirely possible." Robert thought back, briefly, to his time in the coma, and the world the Flow of Life had constructed around his mind to save him from the Time Vortex's maddening effects.  
  
“You’ve been through... a lot of weird, haven’t you?” Maina asked.  
  
“He travels between universes. One is weird enough. Imagine lots.” Lucas replied.  
  
"I have seen quite a few weird things, yes," Robert said. "And being a space traveler was something I never imagined growing up. My Earth is only in the first decades of the 21st Century. When I was growing up just making orbit was a feat, and it was a big deal that a small space station was being put into orbit. Interuniversal jump drives, warp drive, hyperspace engines… that was all something for science fiction." _I'm basically living a science fiction series now_.  
  
“Are you are least Genre Savvy?” Zara asked with a wry grin.  
  
"Well, I know better than to challenge the harmless looking old man if I meet one, at least," Robert replied, smiling.  
  
Everyone but Zara giggled, she belly-laughed. They’d all seen those, though mostly in fantasy stories.  
  
“So, you don’t carry a gun? Not even the Psi Cops go anywhere without a backup weapon.” Maina asked Robert.  
  
"I used to carry guns, but with my abilities, this is more useful," Robert explained, taking his lightsaber from its place on his belt. "It's based on an old Gersallian weapon from thousands of years ago, during the last interuniversal era when the Darglan were exploring. The method to build them was rediscovered by my friend Lucy. She calls it a lightsaber."  
  
“Is that like, some kind of laser-sword?” Lucas asked “Or is it plasma?”  
  
“Does it go on forever when activated?” Maina added  
  
“How do you not dry-roast yourself?” Husn brought up the rear of the inquisitiveness train.  
  
"It's… basically a light beam with an inflection point," Robert replied. "Or so Lucy said when I asked. But she's more technically minded than I am, so I'm not sure why I don't dry-roast myself."  
  
_The math describing the physics has got to be interesting…_ Zara thought.  
  
“Coooool” was the collective response. All of them were happy that there were still mysteries in the universe, because he had a laser that curved in on itself and that shouldn’t be possible but apparently was. Lucas was about to ask him to activate it but Husn had another question and beat him to it.  
  
“Are the armor and robes some sort of uniform? I know we have armored uniforms now.”  
  
"They're not a conventional Alliance uniform," he answered, returning his weapon to its place. "The armor is based on the armor used by the Order of Swenya's Knights, and the robes were a gift to me from _Mastrash_ Kilaba, the abbess of one of their monasteries."  
  
Robert felt the children instinctively recoil from the Order's name. “The Order of Swenya? We’ve heard of them. They take telepaths out of Earth Alliance space. You’re not here to take us, are you?” Lucas asked, eyeing Robert but carefully suspending judgement.   
  
_Ah, here we go. And here I thought I'd be having this conversation with Zara's dads_. Robert felt the caution in Lucas and went for a reassuring look. "Do you want me to?" he asked calmly.  
  
“NO!” _NO!_ From all of them.  
  
There was real ferocity in that response. Robert refrained from matching it, instead only shaking his head. "Then I won't." He gave them each a gentle look and made sure they understood his sincerity. "What I want, and what the Order wants, is to make sure all telepaths get to have a choice. If you choose the Corps, that's fine. We just think it should be _your_ choice, not anyone else's."  
  
“Why would we want to leave our Mother and Father? That doesn’t make any sense.” Husn asked, gobstruck by the notion.  
  
"Well, they should have the choice too," Robert answered. The three younger children raised eyebrows at him like he’d just said that circles had right angles.  
  
“I think you’re confused.” Lucas said in a voice that almost sounded patronizing. “The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father.”  
  
Robert blinked at that. "Is that how you see it? That's…" He considered his thoughts on it. There was something… almost cultish about the use of the term. Authoritarian. The kind of thing you'd use to alienate new members, especially children, from their families. Thoughts of David Koresh and the like came to mind through word and idea association. He couldn't keep the discomfort at these thoughts from his head, so he knew it was obvious to them. "As you can sense, I find it too much like cults I've heard and read about during my life. But maybe I'm just not understanding something about it at the moment."  
  
“Yeah. You’re confused.” Lucas replied, nodding sagely, but he was having a hard time putting it into words and looked up at Zara for help.  
  
“Mother and Father, Mom and Dad, they don’t mean the same thing like they do to mundanes.” Zara said. “The Psi Corps teaches us, feeds us, and protects us. Like parents are _supposed_ to do.” That last part was bitter again. “Mom and Dad, or in my case Dads, when we have them because sometimes we don’t, do the supportive nurturing things.” Lucas, Husn, and Maina nodded in agreement.  
  
"I see." Robert nodded. A shielded thought considered how much was Column A and how much was Column B, between Zara's view and what he'd thought. _It probably depends on the internal issues… or Earth. I'm sure Clark was fine with Column B._  
  
“Yeah. My mundane family is Mormon, well, not so mundane anymore. I have six brothers and sisters and four of them are telepaths. I thought that was big. Now I have twelve million.”  
  
_There’s more to it than the literal meaning._ Zara informed him. _It’s also a promise but they’re a bit too...young, to understand it yet._ Zara left it at that. After a brief pause while he considered how to ask, Lucas spoke up again. “Do you have a family Captain?”  
  
Robert considered the meaning the question and nodded.  
  
“I don’t think mundanes can have a family like we do Lucas.” Maina said aloud. It was blunt, but he was only seven. He had yet to learn tact.  
  
Robert smiled thinly at that. "Oh, we can have family in that way. I do. It isn't as big, though."  
  
“What does that mean for you?” Maina asked “I was born in the Corps, I don’t know what that looks like.”  
  
Robert considered how he could answer. What kind of words he should use. From the life energy within him came an answer that was quite obvious. No words were needed. "How about this? I can show you," he said. "You can see my memories of family and how they make me feel, and then understand what I'm talking about."  
  
“That could work but, we’re kinda new at that. Mrs. Sanders says it can be dangerous because we’re not trained yet.” Maina replied timorously, but Zara stepped in.  
  
“I have been. I can guide you and keep Captain Dale safe.”  
  
Robert nodded to her. "It'll be okay," he said to the kids. And with that, he breathed in and prepared his thoughts for them, using the training he'd received to isolate certain thoughts young children should probably not know.  
  
“Okay, take each other’s hands, and one of you take mine.” Zara suggested and the kids did it. She reached her free hand, still in it’s glove, over to Robert. “You too.”  
  
He nodded and reached over, taking Zara's hand in his own.  
  
With that, she knit the minds of the other kids together with her own, guiding them toward a single common thought that would permit a meeting of minds. A powerful emotion they all shared: hope for a future. Robert felt their minds become something greater than the mere sum of their parts, but also that Zara was the one in control of the gestalt consciousness. They were no longer strictly speaking multiple individuals but they weren’t entirely a single mind either. They reached out with their thoughts and brushed against Robert’s mind, Zara carefully holding them back so they didn’t accidentally initiate a deep scan that could hurt him.  
  
With the mental contact made, Robert brought the memories to the fore of his mind. It wasn't hard; the youth he sensed in the children made the association easy. The thoughts formed a progression, starting with one of his earliest memories, somewhat incomplete given his age, when he was just about three years old. He remembered his mother introducing him to the Andreys family. Most of that was a blur of some kind, but one memory stood out: a little girl with a little ponytail of golden blond hair, her aquamarine eyes glittering like tiny stars, who was eager to have a playmate. And that was how he met Julia.  
  
The memories became more solid as their ages progressed, a collage of birthday parties and playgrounds at school, as well as playing on the farm. Eventually another boy appeared, and his name was easily detected by the children in their collective mind: Zack. More memories passed, memories of happy times with those that went from friends to close family.  
  
Robert let the progression continue, smiling in happy recollection as he did, as the trio expanded over their adolescence. Shy, nerdy, and ever so lonely Tom, picked on at school until Zack stepped in. The loneliness and shyness went away, leaving the group hellion, always the first to try out new curse words or get in trouble. Then came the Hispanic girl in Julia's martial arts class, built tough, but with a warm heart: Angela.  
  
The association there was tricky. Robert's more personal memories of Angel threatened to come up, enough that at least one element of the gestalt reached for it out of curiosity. Robert quietly nudged the memory away with the thought "for grownups". He thought he felt Zara help the nudging.  
  
With Angel came her "crazy little sister", Caterina. Always small for her age, always reading books, and with a curiosity that was insatiable. She asked questions all the time, on top of being utterly devoted to her big sister, just as Angel was completely devoted to Cat's welfare.  
  
Last but certainly not least, Leo arrived, the lonely black child in an area that was majority white. Briefly the memory of the death of Zack's mother came with it; Leo's mother, a psychiatrist at the hospital that acted as a grief counselor, introduced her son to the bereaved Zack.  
  
The memories continued through teenage years into adulthood. Sports glory for Julia and Zack, academic for Tom and for Leo, everything else for the others. Fun parties, nights roaming the Kansas prairies looking for things to do, even that brawl that once got them all arrested… they were virtually inseparable. Losing even one - such as Leo going off to medical school - made the others feel somehow less whole.  
  
That was what he meant by family.  
  
Of course, that was just the oldest segment of the family. Robert's discovery of the old Darglan-made Facility came, and with it new members. Lucy Lucero, once just a girl they knew in school, became a part of it. Gabriel - Gabe - who helped them with their Spanish and supported them in their humanitarian goals, even if it meant violence or danger. And then Jarod, and Nick, and Scotty, and Meridina… Robert felt his connections to them warmly, connections shared among them all that made them into something more than friends, more than fellow officers…  
  
What came next wasn't intended, but it was unavoidable. The fact was, simply considering the Facility also required considering what led to that day above all days, when Robert's discovery changed everything. That discovery hadn't just been an accident of circumstance; it was brought about by deep grief and loss. Just as much, the memories Robert was sharing with the children couldn't be excised of the other people he loved that were part of those memories. All of those years of playing on the farm with Julia and Zack… many of those memories had his little sister Susanna playing along with them. His grandmother's cooking had fed them. His grandfather had entertained them with folk tales and family legends stretching back to the Dale boys who settled in the area and became Jayhawkers in the days of Bleeding Kansas. His parents had given rides to those same friends. Later in life they attended sports games, supported him when he needed it, encouraged him often…  
  
Thinking about those family members made the pain of their loss impossible for Robert to avoid. He simply tried to push it away. He might have, if not for the link.  
  
Initially, Zara saw memories of a happy biological family and Robert could feel her mental grimace, the pain of knowing that it could be conditional, or a lie. That pain and sense of loss looped back in on Robert, making him feel the pain of his own loss more acutely. The painful memories breached the protective wall he kept them in, echoing in his mind and through the connection. Memories of sight and sound filled him and the link.  
  
Robert as an eight year old boy beside a deathbed, the first he'd ever known, pleading to his Grandma Anna. " _Oma! Oma, wach auf! Oma, wach auf bitte! Oma!_ "  
  
Years later, Grandpa Allen in a hospital gown, eyes closed, face contorted with pain, every breath one of agony until finally they stopped...  
  
And then, a decade later… the phone call. The sheriff's deputies, the quiet ride through the Kansas night to the county ME's office. Those sterile halls, bright with fluorescent light, the chemical smell of cleaners. The window into the room of metal slabs. An old man with an emotionless face pulls back the sheets, revealing beloved parents and dear little sister, mangled and broken. Eyes dull with death.  
  
Another thought came. _I had them again. Had them and let them go!_ The image of his family together again, in defiance of death, joined that of a little boy with his face and Julia's eyes and hair, pleading "Daddy, please don't go!" The son he never knew he'd wanted until then, joined by the family his heart yearned to see again. And they were all gone now, a dream that had popped like a bubble when he returned to the real world.  
  
From all of this the wound in his heart, his very being, reopened. The pain came on fresh, as if it had just happened, and Robert couldn't fight it. He let out a low, agonized sob as tears poured down his cheeks.  
  
The three younger children rejected that emotional pain entirely. They worked with Zara to find the memory associations cascading through Robert’s brain and like a finger plugging a hole they stopped it, and poured unconditional love and acceptance into Robert’s mind.  
  
Then Zara transitioned to sharing a few of her own happier memories. Waking up with Gene wrapped around her like a protective blanket and Colin’s cooking. She shared the surprise visit in Teeptown from her dads, when she learned how to walk like a panther and fly Kites - the raptor not the toy - by Lake Geneva. Gene conspired with her to propose to Colin by an oak tree in front of her cadre house; the same house that had also been Colin’s. Then their wedding, with everyone from their home, and a lot of other places besides crammed into a Jewish community center. Lucas shared the happiest moment of his life, when he could feel _anything_ again; when Mrs. Saunders, the same Mrs. Saunders who ran the schools of the camp, came to his house and convinced his parents to take him off Sleepers and administer the counter-agent. It was like waking up from a living death. Maina shared other memories, he was too young to have anything profound or particularly resonant, but he did have Birthday in his old Cadre. Husn had another, of her parents coming to visit on Omega VII on Sundays and taking her to the Mosque, hearing the Adhan and all the thoughts and emotions that accompanied the worship of Allah.  
  
Robert felt those thoughts and the warm associations with them. His sobbing receded and, smothered in love and acceptance, a smile came to him. It occurred to him that this was why so many telepaths remained loyal to the Psi Corps, regardless of any dark side it had or the promise of greater personal freedom elsewhere. A childhood of knowing that love and acceptance awaited anyone suffering, of this kind of feeling… who needed brainwashing and mental reprogramming to enforce loyalty when they had this to offer? This was something real, something special.  
  
So he would have to return the favor and show them something just as special. Something that they would never get to experience otherwise.  
  
Thanks to the children Robert's emotions were re-balanced, though his face was still wet with shed tears. He used that balance to reach for the energy within himself. He felt for his _swevyra_ , the life energy-fueled connection within him, with the children along for the ride, and from there opened himself to the Flow of Life. Not just as he felt it here, but through memory association he shared it as he had felt it in so many other places: New Avalon, the Citadel, Solaris, Portland, New Liberty.  
  
Golden warmth filled him and, through him, them. It was not the thermal meaning of warmth, but rather a warmth of the spirit, of the soul. It was the warmth of joining one's friends for a cup of warm cocoa after working on a cold day. The warmth of a family cuddling together on a couch to watch a favored program. The warmth of watching children playing happily without a care in the world. It was this, but magnified, deeper, soothing and serene. It was the Light of Life, the positive feelings of living beings everywhere, bound together through the Flow of Life.  
  
It was so big and inconceivable that Lucas and Maina could only respond with awestruck wonder. They could feel the minds in a room, but the Life of the cosmos, not just their universal everywhere but everywhere that was everywhere was almost too much for their minds to take in, to even begin to comprehend. Zara tried, she attempted to analyze it and examine it, but couldn’t. Truly knowing it was beyond her and it kept slipping from her grasp. Husn however could reach out, touch it, make little ripples in it, and felt like she was touching what God might actually be.  
  
Husn's reaction wasn't lost on Robert. He opened his eyes and looked at the girl, recognizing immediately what she was doing. _Just like Meridina_ , he thought, recognizing Husn as both telepath and sensitive. One by one the children opened their eyes as well.  
  
“Woah.” Lucas intoned, and Zara perked her head up, noticing the others. Colin, Gene, Max, Mrs. Saunders, Indiri, Doctors Petrovich and Hegebe, several others. They’d approached to a respectful distance and stopped.  
  
“I see you’ve been keeping Captain Dale out of trouble…” Colin said with an affectionate grin as he walked up, only to kneel down and kiss her on the forehead. Gene came in close behind and gave her a hug. Not for any real reason, he just wanted to.  
  
“What was that?” Gene asked.  
  
“Apparently _swevyra,”_ Zara replied and let Robert actually explain things as she enthusiastically returned the hug.  
  
“That’s what that was?” Husn asked, still trying to wrap her head around it.  
  
"I was showing the children the Flow of Life," Robert explained. He shifted a leg to begin the process of standing up. "I'm sorry if we caused any problems. It wouldn't be the first time I've accidentally amplified a telepathic connection like that. Although last time it was… less desirable." His mind flashed back to the attempt, well over two years ago, to help Meridina cope with her remote telepathic sensing of two Maquis being tortured by Cardassians. Despite the fact that he had not yet begun to imagine he had such powers, the resulting interaction had not only intensified their experiencing of the torture, it had caused about every psionically-sensitive being within a ten kilometer radius to feel it, including Counselor Troi on the Federation _Starship Enterprise_.  
  
“I’m pretty sure everyone felt that…much better subject this time, thankfully.” Colin remarked “And that range is tremendous. You don’t need line of sight or even a semblance of it?”  
  
"Not with my abilities," Robert said. "I mean, line of sight can be _useful_ , yes, it gives us something to focus on. But with time and practice we can influence things without having to see them." He looked to the children, most especially to Husn. "I suppose that's the reason the interaction can travel so far."  
  
“Yeah.” Zara agreed. “We can cheat sometimes, but unless we can see something it’s hard to sort things out from the background.”  
  
Husn knew she felt something the others didn’t and looked at Robert, projecting a pointed question mark into his mind like she was pointing at herself with it.  
  
Robert looked to her and nodded. At that moment a tone filled the room. The back of Robert's left hand lit up with blue light, forming a circle, or rather, an obvious button. Robert pressed it. "I'm here."  
  
" _Do your hosts know about the ship approaching the system in hyperspace? And not the local band either. Going by the sensors, they're using an S0T5-style hyperdrive._ "  
  
Robert glanced toward Colin and Gene. He sensed immediate concern and uncertainty and knew what it meant: as far as either knew, the Corps had no ships with that kind of drive system.  
  
"Lucy, would you be of the opinion that such a hyperdrive is the perfect FTL system to use in this universe if you're looking to sneak up on unsuspecting colonies and settlements?" he asked cautiously.  
  
" _Given how local scanning systems work? Yeah, I'd say so. The only reason we see it is because this ship has Darglan sensor technology. Even most subspace scanners would have trouble finding it._ "  
  
As she spoke Robert felt a terrible little feeling in his gut. He gave the assembled telepaths a worried look.  
  
“Pirates or slavers, and they’re not here at random. Someone leaked this location.” Gene concluded, while Colin pulled out his own comm device, tapped a code into its touch screen and slid the little slider from yellow all the way over past the visual spectrum to X-ray for Pogrom/Slave Raid. Every communications device in the entire compound blared out a warning klaxon specifically coded for that particular alarm, and Robert felt a surge of both fear and determination as everyone retreated in as orderly a fashion as they could toward the bunker. Psionic pings called out everyone’s location beyond vocal range or line of sight as everyone was accounted for. Not one telepath would be left behind.


	4. Chapter 4

In neat, careful lines, the telepaths of the Tau Atrea settlement were re-entering the bunker they had vacated mere hours ago. Robert sensed apprehension and fear mixed with grim determination to resist. This was true even with the children, as he watched Husn and Maina guide even smaller and very scared children toward the door, quietly nudging their younger charges with love and affection, keeping them calm.  
  
He turned back as Colin and Gene monitored the mobilization from their command center. "What kind of defenses do you have?" he asked.  
  
“Not much. We have a ship carrying supplies and our primary defensive systems and it’s due in a few hours. All we have right now are some small arms, an anti-beaming field generator, and a deflector shield for the bunker....We also have a telescope attached to a tracking system.” Colin said, contemplating a large closet at the back of the room while pulling a pair of heavy assault rifles from the weapons locker by the control panel, handing one to Gene.  
  
_You thinking what I’m thinking?_ Gene asked his husband. Not that he needed to.  
  
_I did it before in ‘48. I see no reason why it can’t work a second time._ Colin confirmed.  
  
Robert nodded and re-opened his commlink to Lucy. "Lucy, what's the status of that ship?"  
  
" _Still on approach_."  
  
"Can you tell us what kind of ship it is? Profile? Mass?"  
  
" _It's probably at least cruiser sized, going by the wake of its hyperspace signature, although I can't tell you anything more. It could be an actual cruiser, a carrier, a really big armed transport…_ "  
  
"Can you get me the nearest Alliance ship?"  
  
" _The Earth Confederacy cruiser_ Shiloh _. But she's at least eight hours away at her best warp speed._ "  
  
"Summon them anyway. Use my command codes if they resist. And keep me informed. I want to know what it is the moment that ship arrives." Robert lowered his arm.  
  
  
  
  
Talara responded as soon as the text showed on her screen. "The _Shiloh_ is responding. ETA is 8 hours, thirty-five minutes." As Talara spoke Lucy felt her discomfort. "They won't be here nearly fast enough. With everything they've put on this ship, why didn't it get equipped with a jump anchor?"  
  
"That kind of tech can't be risked on missions like ours," said Lucy. "Not regularly anyway." She triple-checked her course and speed information. "We won't make orbit until that ship does. Think you can handle the weapon controls too?"  
  
"I can try."  
  
Lucy turned the chair and reached over to take Talara's arm. "It'll be okay," she assured her student.  
  
"Will it? There is something dark coming," Talara said. "I can feel it. Suffering and terror."  
  
"I do too." Lucy felt Talara's worry and projected her own confidence. "And we can face it together. Remember your training."  
  
"I… I do. It's just…" Talara shook her head. "I'm worried I'll let you down, Lucy. That I'm too weak. I failed on Germania. I couldn't hold that cannon long enough. Tra'dur had to be saved by another."  
  
Lucy responded with a reassuring smile. "Honestly, Talara, back when I'd only been in training for a month, I'm not sure I could have held that gun so long either. Don't let what happened undermine your confidence. You can do this. In your heart, in your _swevyra_ , you _know_ this."  
  
Talara closed her eyes. Her face slowly changed to show determination. "I can do this," she said. "I can do this." Her uncertainty faded, pushed away. "I _can_ do this."  
  
"That's the spirit," Lucy assured her.  
  
  
  
  
The evacuation into the bunker was complete. The outer blast door was ready to be sealed and locked with the press of a key, turning the entire bunker into an isolated atmosphere. Robert looked to Colin. "And when is your ship scheduled to arrive?"  
  
“Four hours too late. We need it here in minutes.” He flipped a switch on the control panel and opened up a channel to every comm device in the bunker. “I need every adult with a rating of P8 or greater to meet just outside this bunker. We’re going to play an old trick.”  
  
“Dad, let me help!” came Zara’s voice both over the comms and from just out of sight down the short corridor to the inner blast door. Colin mentally cursed himself for not feeling her, but she knew how to mask herself and he had other things on his mind. She was already pitter-pattering down the hall and Gene intercepted her.  
  
“Zara, I can’t let you outside.” Gene told her in no uncertain terms. “If anything happens to us, we need a mindshredder inside to protect everyone else. That means you.”  
  
“But!” she protested but Colin cut her off by wrapping his arms around her. In this, she was just like any other kid. She was terrified of losing the people she loved and wanted to make sure it didn’t happen. They were terrified of losing her, of risking her being consigned to slavery _again_ if they couldn’t fight off whatever was coming.   
  
“I know. I love you too. More than anything in any world. But we have to keep you safe, and these guys could be bad. We don’t know what they have with them.” Tears were running down both their cheeks and Gene had joined them in a family hug. Adults were already coming up the stairs from deeper inside. All of them armed.  
  
“Get downstairs. We’ll move heaven and earth to get back. We’ll become telekinetic gods if we have to. Go.” With one final kiss from both of them Zara reluctantly, painfully, retreated deeper inside the bunker.  
  
As this discussion finished, Lucy's voice came over the comm. " _Robert, what are your orders?_ "  
  
"Be ready to engage if at all feasible, if not standby and wait for the _Shiloh_ or a chance to intervene. There are civilians down here, if the worst comes to it, you evacuate as many as you can. Dale out."  
  
Everyone's attention turned to the sensor data that Lucy was relaying to them. Robert felt a sentiment from Gene, a suspicious consideration that these were Hawk's people. Robert shook his head at that. _No, I don't think so. Although I am always prepared to be disappointed…_  
  
Two things happened in quick succession. One, the sensor data showed the ship emerge from hyperspace. Then, almost immediately, the signal from Lucy cut. Robert consulted his omnitool. "They're jamming us. Complete comm blackout on about every channel."  
  
“Of course they are.” Colin croaked, still holding Gene’s hand as they let their minds intermingle and calm the other’s fear and despair.  
  
A light activated on one of the stations. Gene reached over and pressed a key. On one of the screens the image shifted to show a Human male. His hair was perfectly dark and immaculately kept. Fine dark garments were visible on his shoulders. His skin was nearly marble in its white tone. His eyes were not normal Human coloration. They glittered like twin carnelian stones, part of the haughty look on the being's face. The voice spoke English in an unfamiliar accent. " _To the psions dwelling on Tau Atrea 3. I have a proposition to make to you_."  
  
“We’re listening.” Colin replied, his voice had turned hard, not showing an iota of fear.  
  
The figure smiled. " _I am not an unreasonable man. I make you this offer. Give to me one third of your adults and children, and I will allow the rest of you to live in peace. I am certain they will prove quite sufficient profit to justify my expenses for the journey._ "  
  
_Slavers don’t work that way. They’ll keep coming back again, and again. Like fucking bed bugs, or Herpes. Not one. Not one single solitary soul._ It wasn’t Colin, or Gene, but both in consensus.  
  
“I’ll make you a counter-offer. Leave orbit now, or I’ll plant a nightmare inside your mind so terrible and so deep that the only way you’ll ever find peace is by clawing out your own _fucking eyes before castrating yourself with your teeth_.”  
  
The figure sighed. " _Oh well. I tried to be reasonable. I will take you all, then. And you, psion, I think I will keep you for my personal use. I look forward to breaking you._ "  
  
"I'm Robert Dale, a Paladin of the Alliance," Robert spoke up. "You heard them. Get out of here or face the Alliance fleet when they get here."  
  
The figure's red eyes glistened with interest. " _The Alliance founder. I have heard of you._ " His lips curled into a smile. " _An interesting bluff, but I am quite aware of your fleet's deployments. We will have our cargo and be gone before your ships arrive._ " The smile grew. " _And I do wonder how much_ you _will fetch on the markets. We have contacts who would pay handsomely..._ "  
  
At that point, Gene cut the line in disgust.  
  
The sensors for the compound shifted. Robert looked at the display and noted, "It looks like they're launching landing craft. Dropships of some kind. Company's on its way."  
  
The two Psi Cops minds were in sync as they rushed toward a closet. Colin opened it and they both started maneuvering an object through its door. A large telescope, top-of-the-line civilian grade. Robert was no expert, but he figured it could spot ships in lunar orbit.  
  
“You’d be right!” Colin replied with forced cheer. “Materials are upgraded, but with enough telepaths…”  
  
“We’ll have a ground-to-orbit battery.” Gene finished for him.  
  
Given what he'd just experienced with the minds of four telepath children, it wasn't hard for Robert to guess what the plan was. But the idea of it, that seemed ambitious. Yet he sensed confidence in Colin, the confidence of someone who was repeating a prior accomplishment.  
  
“Battle of the Line.” Colin informed him as he and Gene reached the door. “My brother, myself, and fifty other telepaths took out a Minbari ship from TeepTown with a ‘scope just like this one. We weren’t the only ones. Military division and Metapol seized control of several observatories.”  
  
Robert followed them, as did a line of telepaths led by Max. They stepped out into the cooling air of the early evening.  
  
“Alright everyone, we’ve drilled for this.” Gene told the assembled crowd of telepaths that included Max, two doctors still in scrubs, a very worried looking teacher backslash social worker Robert knew as Mrs. Saunders, and twenty other adults. They all linked hands while Colin connected to the tracking system on the telescope to the bunker’s sensor array. When he was done, he took position at the eyepiece with his hands on the controls. Gene formed the bridge between the rest of the assembled telepaths and his husband, and their minds snapped together like clickbricks forming a Great Gestalt.  
  
Robert could feel their minds coalescing. There was a ripple through the Flow of Life, like a stone thrown into a river sending ripples across the surface of the water. The psionic power they were gathering was incredible and quite terrifying. He actually swallowed with the recognition that if the place had been hostile, they would have easily shredded his mind or given his brain a massive stroke while he was still in a distant orbit had he gone in uncloaked.  
  
The telescope adjusted position to point directly at the cruiser, and the collective consciousness found a point between serenity and incandescent rage. Gazing through the telescope’s optics with a singular will they reached outward, past the atmosphere and through the Van Allen Belt into the void of space like a grasping hand.  
  
They found their target on the cruiser-mothership, all they had to do was find a wellspring of godlike arrogance, pride, and sadism. Merely touching that mind _hurt_ and they all collectively recoiled from it in pain and surprise. This was not an undefended mind, but one not entirely unlike their own; and powerful. They noticed something else, their discomfort and pain caused him immense sexual pleasure and gratification. Robert felt their collective exclamation mark as they all realized what he might have planned; whatever transcendent joy they had in their mental joining disappeared in favor of wrath and they redoubled their assault.  
  
The slaver didn’t fight back, he couldn’t fight back, but he could and did try to keep them out. He threw up barrier after barrier in a multilayered defense that was difficult but not terribly time consuming to breach. Robert saw telepaths bleeding from their nose and the small capillaries in their eyes as they strained to breach his defenses, their own stress and pain fed back into the _intense_ pleasure their enemy felt so much that it distracted him from defending himself just enough that they could break through. It took about thirty seconds and his third orgasm to scan him but when they did they knew what he was, where he was from, what he planned to do, what he had done before. Also who gave him the location.  
  
In that moment, all two dozen telepaths understood the meaning of the word “Jihad”, and waged holy war upon his very being, against the concept of his existence.  
  
The first thing they did was burn out the pleasure centers of his brain, hyperstimulating them until the neurons died. Then they slowed his subjective perception of time so that seconds would feel like weeks, and seized control of his motor cortex and forced it to contract every skeletal muscle in his body at full force. Muscles tore, tendons snapped, ligaments gave way. Bones subjected to shearing stresses shattered at their growth plates, his diaphragm contracted so hard it broke ribs. It wasn’t enough. Not for a lifetime of pleasuring himself by torturing telepaths. Colin directed them toward every part of his brain responsible for the processing and perception of pain, and they stimulated those neurons to the edge of cell-death, and kept them there. Then, it was enough. Only then did someone in the Gestalt suggest they could possibly go too far, and the other others listened. They ended it through the quick and simple expedient of ripping his consciousness to pieces like a school of piranha, then pulled out just before the door opened. From the time they breached his defenses to his death only ten seconds had elapsed.  
  
Colin’s fingers retrained the telescope again, and found another target in the pilot of one of dropships, but their scan hit null-space. It was as if his mind was largely void, with parts missing. Yet, clearly the mind was conscious and sapient, capable of moving and thinking of its own will, albeit perhaps a heavily straightjacketed will. It took them time to find a route in to do what they needed to do, precious time. When they did it was with a spastic motion to the left that sent the dropship careening into another. Shields already strained by atmospheric entry were taxed beyond their capacity and the hulls touched, stresses beyond safe limits tore both apart and they exploded in the upper atmosphere.   
  
Colin's efforts to locate another with the telescope proved unnecessary. The dropships were becoming visible to the naked eye. They were blocky craft, made for hovering in atmosphere and relying on power to achieve flight in the same. Each was a dull brown color and had a worn appearance, one even being dented along the side.  
  
While the gestalt attempted to find another way to attack the brains of their operators, Robert focused his own powers on the lead dropship. There was crew aboard and he felt the presence of life, but it was a dull presence. The life was barely a candle compared to the usual light from a sapient being. Robert shuddered at the last time he'd felt such a thing, the sensation leading to memories of the Cybermen tromping about Canary Wharf.  
  
With just enough time to take down one, Robert quieted his emotions and focused his power around him. Recalling Druni's example and explanation for her technique, he clenched his fists and then extended his middle and index fingers forward, as if making a miniature gun gesture in each hand. His will reached into the air and began separating the latent electrical charge around him, splitting the positive from the negative charges. Crackling lightning formed around his hands as he circled them around, splitting more and more positive and negative energy.  
  
As the dropship came over the horizon, Robert felt an instinctive pull that guided his right hand in the moment before he finally released his will. The two separated charges crashed together under his guidance. A bolt of cerulean lightning erupted from the fingertips he was pointing skyward. It crackled across the distance and savaged one of the dropships, easily overwhelming its anti-small arms shields and destroying the things aboard it. The burning craft crashed to the ground outside of the compound.  
  
And like that the dropships were over the compound. One approached from each cardinal direction. They had no external armament, presumably to more easily pass as cargo haulers. Even before they switched to hovering, the doors along the sides were opening. Forms dropped from them, falling thirty, even forty meters to the ground without the aid of a zip line. Robert pulled his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it, the green blade shining in readiness at his foes.  
  
Which he recognized. The gestalt could feel that recognition, and his small sliver of brief uncertainty before discipline and necessity drove that doubt away.  
  
The figures were not felinoid, like a Dilgar or Rr'timm or Caitian, but they looked like they could be feline, with slender, muscled bodies that promised speed and agility. Their skin made one think of Turians with its scaly look and the ash gray color of it. Eyes that were blue and yellow in coloration stared dully ahead, save where they were covered by visors or replaced by ocular implants, with their heads leaner than the heads of Humans and similar species. The tops of their heads were covered in metal, not simply helmets but plates grafted onto their skulls. They had armored suits of black and dark blue, some still marked with a beige four-fingered claw much like the ones on the ends of their two arms. Some had clawed prosthetics, others had entire arms replaced. The same was true of their legs.  
  
Robert knew what they were… because they were made to counter people like him, in the name of their Emperor, whether they wanted to or not.  
  
_Coserian cybertroopers_ , he thought, for the benefit of the telepaths behind him. _Combat cyborgs made by the Coserian Empire to fight the metaphysically-gifted._ He brought his knowledge to the forefront of his thoughts, of a decadent, authoritarian empire that expanded, conquering and enslaving species until it was finally held back by the Gersallian Interdependency and their allies, the Dorei, brought low and driven back from their conquests decade by decade until they arrived at the point they were now, an Empire divided by civil conflict and factionalism.  
  
The cyborgs raised their weapons toward them as they took positions to surround and contain the group. One of the dropships hovered ominously over the bunker entrance building, its troops landing to cut off their retreat.  
  
At that point, chaos erupted.  
  
Brilliant sapphire energy struck the dropship, pulses that chewed into the craft and opened it up, destroying some of the cybertroopers within. Moments later an azure-sheened shuttle slammed into the same dropship. Both vessels went flying into the far perimeter wall, which they destroyed upon impact.  
  
Three of the cybertroopers had already landed in front of the bunker, blocking their retreat. But just as the shuttle started its attack run, one of the troopers let out a loud screech as fluid seeped from a sudden, violent wound in its chest. The other two reacted with superhuman speed, just for another to have an unseen force cleave through its arms, dismembering it. The last fired blindly as a voice reached into their minds. _Get to the bunker!_  
  
The gestalt was breaking up as the command came from Becca. Telepaths, again independent, took cover and began pouring fire into the cybertroopers with a variety of weapons, all of them throwing hard slugs; everything from newer H&K assault rifles to Gene’s M-96 Mattock and Colin’s M-15 Vindicator. The Psi Cops, slipped in and out of a combined state without even needing physical contact, and with such close proximity a pair of P12s didn’t need to target a mind or use a weapon to kill a cyborg. They switched between firing and reinforcing each other’s minds to blow out ocular implants or disable delicate circuitry in cognitive processors. The others put their own bodies between the medical telepaths and harm, and began a disciplined withdrawal toward their own bunker.  
  
At the same moment they engaged the nearest cybertroopers, Robert turned to his left. He couldn't deflect fire from each and every enemy, so he went on the attack. With little time to prepare himself he threw as large a wave of invisible force as he could manage without harming the others. The lack of preparation meant there was no focusing it, no controlling what it hit and what it didn't, save keeping it from spreading beyond the arc he'd already chosen, roughly 170 degrees or so ahead of him and thus away from the telepaths. The wave of raw force generated from the Flow of Life slammed into the troopers, sending them flying meters away, and kept going. Some of the un-repaired or unfinished structures collapsed like they'd been struck by a blast wave, and even those structurally sound still took visible damage. This was, needless to say, _not_ his intention, but the attack had been wild and in the time he had that couldn't be helped.  
  
Even as his wave of force did its work, a solid bolt of blue light slammed into the ground among the remaining cybertroopers to Robert's right. It detonated with the force of a grenade. It killed the cybertrooper it detonated under; others around it were thrown off their feet, damaged or partly disabled. A second later another shot of the same kind landed among the enemy, destroying or damaging more of their number. Robert felt that now-familiar anger: Hawk was nearby.  
  
All of this happened in the space of maybe five seconds, a rapid series of actions that bought valuable space for the defenders. The cybertroopers not damaged or destroyed by the sudden attack were returning fire in earnest now. Robert's lightsaber became a green blur, catching incoming bolts of blue light. But he could deflect only so many and some of the fire struck the telepaths around him. It did not kill, however, but immobilized; Robert and the others immediately realized the enemy was out to capture, not kill.  
  
The telepaths continued to return fire, the medical telepaths working to aid comrades back to their feet. From his perch on a nearby building, Hawk opened fire again, this time with his weapon set to rifle fire. Streams of blue pulses rained down on the cybertroopers. Robert already knew where Hawk was firing from - the top of what was going to be the community center - and turned his attention to the cybertroopers directing their focus that way.  
  
Behind him, the telepaths formed a cordon around the bunker, assuming a defensive position and keeping up fire while the medical telepaths brought the stunned and wounded through the blast door. Robert moved to his right, putting himself in a position to intercept fire from the thickest remaining group of cybertroopers.  
  
The sudden attack by Hawk and Becca may have saved them from being encircled and taken down immediately, but even then they didn't have a lot of time. The cybertroopers were recovering. Their combat systems were re-calculating threat assessment and their repair systems were bringing damaged portions of their bodies back online. Those he had blasted away with the wave were recovering and moving back toward the bunker. That was the entire purpose of their design: superhuman resilience and speed, not to mention accuracy.  
  
Robert's lightsaber spun in the air, intercepting incoming fire that was starting to become overwhelming. He sent one of the plasma bolts right back to the shooter, damaging its weapon and arm. A wave of force, far less powerful this time, briefly knocked over others. He backed up until he could deflect the incoming fire, at least from the right side of the blast door. The left side was another matter.  
  
Hawk's fire stopped just as enemy fire seemed to converge on his location. Moments later a cybertrooper at the base of the building fell back, as if knocked down by something landing on it, blood and fluid pouring from wounds thanks to Hawk's nanite blades. A nearby cybertrooper lost an arm, a third one a leg. Their fire started to converge around them, drawing away shots that were threatening to overwhelm the retreating telepaths. But there was no indication they hit him.  
  
Behind Robert, he felt a sudden instinctive panic from a familiar mind. A curse in Yiddish went through his mind, telling him Max had been hit. Two more telepaths went down in the following second, stunned, with fire increasing to their left.  
  
Becca materialized beside Robert, a pulse pistol in one hand while the other had silver material flowing out from her wrist, forming a tower shield that was blocking incoming fire. This enabled her to protect the telepaths behind them. Her pistol barked again and again, hitting some cybertroopers but missing others as they swiftly shifted their positions to evade.  
  
The medical telepaths emerged from the bunker, rushing to the aid of Max and the remaining fallen. Robert and Becca were joined by Hawk, who materialized between the two and generated an even larger shield with the nanites streaming from both arms. "Get your asses going, people!" he shouted. "There's more coming!"  
  
And indeed there was. Robert could feel them, more of those flickering candles of minimal life. The slavers had launched more dropships and they were almost to the compound.  
  
The encouragement proved unnecessary. The final stunned telepath was brought in, leaving just those three and the Psi Cops. _Get in!_ Colin urged them mentally.  
  
One by one they fell back toward the door. As they slipped in, Colin and Gene provided the cover fire. Gene aimed and fired in short three round bursts from just inside the door, taking one cybertrooper in the throat and face with hypervelocity projectiles. Colin was a bit less practiced with a gun, and managed to hit center mass of one, knocking it over but he wasn’t sure if he killed it.  
  
Becca went through first, at Hawk's urging. Hawk fell back second, continuing to spray fire with the Psi Cops. Robert's lightsaber continued to intercept the incoming fire until he was at the door.  
  
Before he could step back into it, a bolt of plasma struck him in the right foot. This was not a stun shot - evidently the troopers firing on him hadn't bothered - and the hit sent pain rippling through the extremity of his limb. The pain and shock of the hit caused him to trip backwards into the bunker, but his lower legs and feet were still on the outside.  
  
Hawk turned and opened fire with his rifle right inside the doorway, providing the necessary cover fire for Colin to reach down to grab Robert.  
  
A bolt of plasma smashed into Hawk's shoulder, sending him falling back with a pained cry. The shot was full-powered and fried the entire joint. It also meant the door, aside from Colin, was now open, and several cybertroopers rushed toward it with inhuman speed.  
  
Becca stepped up into the portal, pistol firing rapidly. Cybertrooper after cybertrooper went down from damage, their shots hitting her tower shield. Her act gave the necessary time for one of the telepaths in the bunker to engage the structure's deflector shield.  
  
Colin got Robert past the threshold of the blast door as the leading cybertrooper _leaped_ forward, a blade emerging from its forearm as it did, clearing the deflector just before it snapped into place. Becca shot it in the head.  
  
But physics were physics. It still flew onward until the blade struck home, smashing through the nanite shield and impaling Becca at the edge of a lung. She made a little gasp as pain shot through her body. The blade exited her back, spewing blood into the bunker receiving area. The momentum of the impacting trooper knocked her back until both fell within the bunker, the cybertrooper's feet at the edge.  
  
Now fully inside, Robert made a motion with his hand, pulling the remains of the attacker inside so that Gene could slam the blast door shut. With the day saved Robert grimaced and looked down at his foot. The armored boot had absorbed much of the damage, but a small hole showed where enough of the energy from the bolt had drilled through to damage the area just forward of his ankle. As wounds went, it was hardly life-threatening, but it was still mildly painful and, for the moment, debilitating.  
  
Both Becca and Hawk were a different story. Hawk’s shoulder would likely need surgery but it wasn’t immediately life-threatening, Becca’s stab wound was. Judging from its position it had nicked her lung, and he internally debated what to do about the cybertrooper still on top of her.  
  
“I’ll get Mr. Hawk wrapped up, you’re better with medicine than I am.” Gene told his husband as he got the medical kits out and passed one to Colin. His only real concern was to prevent infection.  
  
Before Gene could approach Hawk held a hand up. "No need." As he spoke, the burn on his skin seemed to recede, replaced by pinkish flesh. He rotated the arm once before kneeling down beside Becca. She coughed up blood and started pushing at the dead cyborg on top of her. Hawk grabbed it and helped pull it off. Becca screamed as the blade in her chest was pulled free, ripping through her as it did.  
  
“The hell!?” Colin protested, removing the blade was the worst thing you could do until you were in a surgical theater. He was going to cut the hand off at the wrist and leave it in, and put in a one-way valve for the pneumothorax.  
  
"Getting the blade out immediately is what we needed," Hawk insisted, and it was clear why. The blood flow was already receding from the wounds. "Now the nanites can seal the injuries. Still, we need to get her patched up. With that much damage it's going to take them a bit to completely heal her."  
  
“Alright then…” Colin agreed, adapting. “Her lung is the biggest concern, with the external wounds closing, the lungs will leak air into the pleural cavity…”  
  
She coughed. There was more blood, but she seemed slightly stronger. After a moment's consideration she concentrated and winced. Silver material punched through her flesh near the lung and formed a hollow tube. "There," she said hoarsely.  
  
Gene looked over at the nanite chest tube while Colin picked his jaw up off the floor. “Well that’s just handy…”  
  
"It's Darglan tech for you," Robert said, familiar with how well their nanites worked. He looked down at his injured foot. "And it's better than what we found back in the day. Makes me wish we had them."  
  
Hawk smiled wolfishly at him. "I bet you do, Alliance man."  
  
Gene turned his attention to Robert. “Ouch. Plasma burn. I know all about those.” Robert got the impression he knew them too well. “Those guns aren’t too dissimilar to our PPGs,” Gene remarked. "Colin is cross-trained in medical… our surgeons are working on our wounded, but we should be able to do something about the hit to mobility.” He closed his eyes and sent a telepathic message.  
  
"There are worse places to be shot," Robert said, smiling despite the need to hobble over to a chair helpfully provided by another of the telepaths. Nearby Max was starting to move again, gingerly. As he sat in it, he said, "It's better than being shot in the ass."  
  
“How the hell did you even manage to deflect those shots? We can sense electromagnetic fields, that thing doesn’t emit them.” Colin asked while he took off Roberts boot. An EMT who looked like he was of Japanese extraction came up from the lower levels to assist.  
  
"That's a good thing. If I'd had a Gersallian _lakesh_ or similar weapon, which does use an EM field, I'd have never been able to deflect their fire," Robert said. "Their bolts explode when subjected to EM fields. But they didn't expect something like the lightsaber. Lightsaber deflection works differently." The thought made him think of Lucy, since she'd know more on how to explain it. He checked his omnitool while Colin and the EMT finished getting to his wounded foot. "Still being jammed," he said. "But they can't jam me." He focused inwardly for the Flow of Life, and through it sought out the familiar sense of Lucy's presence in it.  
  
_There you are_ , he sensed Lucy reply. _Whoever these people are, they're employing jamming even the_ Aurora _would be hard-pressed to deal with.  
  
Yeah. We're all fine here. Everyone's in the bunker and the deflector shield is up. All we have to do is wait until their reinforcements show up._  
  
He felt a tinge of worry from Lucy. _And they're okay with you…?  
  
They are.  
  
You feel hurt_.  
  
_Plasma bolt to the foot. Coserian cybertroopers_.  
  
_Crap_. Lucy's sentiment was loud and clear on that. _Better than a plasma bolt to the ass, I guess. What do you want me to do?  
  
Stay in orbit and monitor the situation. That ship could outgun the infiltrator, so I'd rather not risk it. But do what you think is right_, Robert answered her.  
  
_Roger that. Keep in touch_.  
  
Robert let the connection go.  
  
“I would like to take this moment to thank you all.” Colin said.   
  
“Yeah. Mr. Hawk, I’m afraid I owe you an apology as well. I’ve thought some uncharitable things, but you came back when it counted and I think we’d have a lot more dead siblings if you hadn’t.” Gene followed up soberly.  
  
Hawk glanced up from where he was looking over his rifle and grunted an acknowledgement. His shoulder was still healing, but it looked almost completely restored. Robert recognized Hawk's weapon as the same model of rifle they'd recovered from his campsite at Earth C1P2 during their first encounter.   
  
_Don’t get us wrong, there’s a good chance we’ll have to kill him. Just not today._ Gene ‘cast over to Robert, and it was clear ‘we’ was the Psi Corps.   
  
_You’re right about the brain damage and it’s worse than you think. At the rate he’s going, he’ll stop being a person long before he dies. Long before he can’t use technology anymore. At that point, even we won’t be able to reconstruct him and justice won’t be relevant anymore. The only ethical thing will be…_ At that, Colin glyphed a mental image of a labrador retriever and a shed.   
  
_If it does come to that, and you can’t do it… we will. We owe him that, at this point._ Gene concluded, not meaning the Psi Corps, but himself and Colin personally.  
  
Robert nodded quietly at that. He sensed a slight presence at the edge of his mind and looked toward Becca. She was frowning at him, and then toward them as well. Robert could tell she'd realized what they proposed, and the prospect was making her upset.  
  
_You were there for that conversation Becca._ Colin told her.  
  
She glyphed back acknowledgement. Unhappy acknowledgement.  
  
"I thought you were leaving," Robert said, looking at Hawk after the quick telepathic exchange.  
  
"That was my plan," Hawk said. "We'd just gotten back to the shuttle and were preparing to launch when I picked up that incoming ship. So we stuck around. Glad we did, and just as glad that asshole in orbit made it so easy to listen in on your conversation." His eyes flashed with anger, but there was a sly grin on his face. "Killing slavers is like killing Nazis. It never gets old. And I'm personally going to ram my blades into that red-eyed bastard's guts and slice him in half."  
  
“That’ll be a little difficult. He’s very very dead.” Gene replied with a satisfied grin.  
  
Hawk raised an eyebrow. "What, you mind-scragged him from here?"  
  
“Catch that telescope outside? That’s why there were so many of us out there. We can extend our range and don’t strictly need line of sight that way. Came in handy when the Minbari were going to bombard Earth into oblivion, figured we’d give it a second shot.” Colin explained.  
  
Robert didn't need telepathy or his own talents to notice the brief wince on Hawk's face. He'd perhaps heard things about this ability, but Robert suspected he was just now realizing that Gene's earlier observation that they would have received lobotomies if this place were a black site was no idle boast.  
  
“In fairness, you need at least one person who’s trained very well in attack probes to get the best work out of it, and a sensor system...or a sky full of enemy ships so thick they could block out the sun.”  
  
Hawk grunted. "Thanks for sharing," he said. He gave another look at his rifle's display. "Fifty percent. I told Ken we needed to improve the charge cell," he grumbled.  
  
Becca smiled slightly. "And he told you that the Darglan already pushed the technology to its limit." To that, she was answered with a "harumph".  
  
"How do the deflectors look?" Robert asked. Gene got up and looked at the display of their shielding system.   
  
“They haven’t been bombarded yet. Don’t know how long they’ll last if I don’t know the energy yield of their weapons though, and a bombardment carries other issues.”  
  
"I doubt they'll hit us with anything that might kill us all on accident," Hawk observed acidly. "They want slaves, not Kentucky fried telepaths."  
  
“No, but they could take the shield down and cut through the blast door. I wouldn’t want to fight those things in close quarters. We’re both fencers, we have monomolecular rapiers, but against cyborgs...” he paused and realized what he’d just said. “Christ, I’m living in a science fiction now.” Gene grumbled.  
  
"In close quarters those things are monsters," Robert said. He remembered how Druni described her fight with just one, albeit one of the "officer" cybertroopers. In the end she only survived by splitting the energy in the air to create lightning, the same technique that got her thrown out of the Order of the Silver Moon. The same technique he had just used to shoot down a dropship.  
  
“They threw her out of her order for that?” Colin asked, wrapping up Roberts foot.  
  
"This is what you get for remembering crap around telepaths, Dale," Hawk pointed out, chuckling.  
  
“Our house…” Gene grinned.  
  
Robert gave Hawk a brief look of irritation before nodding. "It has to do with the religious view many Dorei cultures have of these powers. Lightning is traditionally associated with darkness, with using the power in anger to harm or destroy. Lightning has also been used by those fallen into darkness as a means of torture." Robert showed them memories of the fight with the SS at the _Führerhaus_ , the lightning his foes channeled at him that his own power and lightsaber reflected. "Granted, that kind of lightning isn't what we use. It's channeled from the Flow of Life bent to negative, destructive intent. All I did was split positive and negative charges in the environment and cause them to come back together in a way that generates a lightning bolt."  
  
“I approve of the religious loophole,” Max butted in with a wry smile. “But there is a definite metaphysical distinction there. I take it the Dorei don’t see that as relevant?”  
  
"The Silver Moon's leadership thought it a bad sign anyway and insisted she refrain from using it. Instead Druni left the order and went out on her own. Although she's still defiantly loyal to them. Don't _ever_ bring up some of the fiction about the Order's practices around her, or she will give you a punch to the arm."  
  
“Speaking as someone whose own family is subject to various fictions, I’ll just consider them irrelevant.” Colin replied. “You’re all done, by the way. Bet you didn’t feel the skin graft…”  
  
Robert shook his head. "I didn't. And thank you again."  
  
“My pleasure. But I just did the patching up, Hikaru did all the actual work…” Colin motioned toward the EMT who’d emerged earlier but hadn’t actually touched him.  
  
"Thank you, Hikaru," Robert said to the Corps EMT.  
  
“My specialty is pain management” Hikaru said, taking distinct pride in his work. “The pleasure is mine.”  
  
"So, they're out there, we're in here. And that's not going to last forever," Hawk pointed out. "They've probably got several more dropships worth of cyborgs at least, and we took those things by surprise." He grinned. "So any plans on dealing with the problem?"  
  
“We have a ship four hours away with enough firepower to vaporize their cruiser and a full complement of marines.” Gene replied. “So unless they have something that can get through our shield, best course of action is to wait it out.”  
  
"I thought you'd say that," Hawk said.  
  
His tone made it clear he didn't like that idea, and Robert sensed his desire to go on the offensive. "These things aren't a game, Hawk," Robert said. "You caught them by surprise, but they're fast and tough and the officers are usually trained to handle enemies with special abilities in one-on-one fights. They're more than a match for either of us in a normal fight." _Unless I'm willing to just give up controlling my power, and then this compound may not survive.  
  
But if they have minds that need to be trained… they might be more vulnerable to us. _Was the dual-thought of the Psi Cops.  
  
_You are T10s. I would say so as well_ , added Becca. She was still in some pain, it seemed, but she was paying attention.  
  
There was a brief thought that flitted through Hawk, more of a feeling, that they knew nothing of what he or Becca could do, neither his current allies nor the cybertroopers outside. That feeling was quickly pushed away as if it were a dangerous one beyond considering. "Well, I'm on board for waiting," Hawk said, although he didn't seem happy about it.  
  
“And we should have an action plan in case they can breach the shield. We have armor and kinetic barriers in our armory, should be good against their weapons. I’ll go break them out.” Gene said and headed downstairs only to find his daughter there waiting just inside the inner door. Before Gene could even react, Zara pounced, throwing herself bodily into his chest. Had he not managed to spin around and drop down to one knee with her in his arms the impact probably would have knocked him over.  
  
“DAD!”  
  
“OOF!” was all he could get out as the wind was knocked out of him. Colin caught the commotion and got up to join them, creating a telepath sandwich with his daughter as the non-bread ingredients.  
  
“Hey! Glad to see us alive, huh?” Colin asked the question he already knew the answer to. She didn’t cry that time, she was too happy to cry.  
  
“Clearly.” she managed to actually say “I...felt you break that guy. Just about everyone did. You okay Dad?” Robert could tell she meant both of them. Somehow, they always knew who she was referring to but this time it was both.  
  
“We think so?” Gene speculated.  
  
“What the hell was he?” Zara asked.  
  
“A monster. No, really. I don’t have a word other than that for what he was. For what his people are. They enslave telepaths and feed on torturing them...” Colin shuddered.  
  
_What?_  
  
“Yeah. Just touching his mind hurt. All of us. Strong defenses too. I can’t really say much more it was all kind of a blur and I need to sort myself out.” Colin replied to her unspoken disbelieving query.  
  
Robert felt the anxiety coming from beneath their feet. "Is everyone alright?" he asked. "Nobody is panicking?"  
  
“No, no panic.” Zara replied. “They’re just worried.”  
  
“A lot of the people here were kids on Earth during the Battle of the Line. They’ve got some memories of being stuck in a hole awaiting bombardment from orbit.” Gene said to clarify. “But they’ve also been through it before. I suspect a good number will suicide before they’re taken though…”  
  
"Right." Robert frowned. "Well, we're in for the long haul. That's what sucks about being the besieged side. They act, we react. Although maybe you can thin their numbers through your cameras."  
  
“I was just thinking that, yeah. We have the breathing room needed to assess individual weaknesses in here.” Colin replied and kissed Zara on the top of the head. “Alright sweetheart, we need to get geared up properly. Body armor and barriers.” He let her go with a final burst of affection that Robert could feel across the room, and Gene did the same.   
  
“Okay dad, I’ll let you go get badass. Can I stay up here for a while?”  
  
“Might as well… unless they start burning through the door or take the shields down. Then you book it down into the bunker, got it?” Gene agreed after a brief mental back and forth with Colin. She let them both go downstairs and looked at Becca, Robert, and Hawk. Robert she knew and grinned at, but Hawk got the brunt of her penetrating gaze.  
  
Hawk met it and then glanced at Robert. "Dale, she's all yours. I'm not a damn babysitter."  
  
Becca gave him a bemused look. Robert sensed the reply in her mind. _Liar_. _Ken and Janice told me otherwise_. Realizing he'd sensed her thought, she looked to him and mind-cast, _James babysat his younger cousins for years while growing up. From what everyone else says, he was a big softie_.  
  
_And now look at him_ , Robert lamented.  
  
“How many kids do you know who can kill with their mind?” she asked dryly with that same affected thousand-yard stare. She glyphed Becca a cheeky grin overlying that stare to let he know that she’d never actually done that.  
  
_Hi! Good to meet you! You know, I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated until just now how useful being able to have two conversations at once can be._ Zara mind-cast at the other telepath.  
  
The result was a small bemused chuckle from Becca. She glyphed a reply showing the full nature of her amusement.  
  
While he was not privy to the conversation between his trainee and the little girl, Hawk could tell something was being exchanged. As soon as a bewildered expression appeared on his face, Robert started laughing.  
  
  
  
  
Lucy eased back on the drives as they approached orbital space of Tau Atrea 3. Ahead of them the slaver ship was keeping a geostationary orbit. Lucy tapped a key to zoom in the display of the targeted ship. It definitely looked like a custom job. Four hundred meters long and a hundred and sixty wide, the engine drives were from an S0T5 civilization - Cevaucian, Lucy thought - while the ship bore a passing resemblance to Coserian armed cargo ships. On top of the S0T5 and N2S7 pieces, the deflector shields were Arcturan knockoffs from D3R1.  
  
But the weapons were Coserian, that was certain, and Lucy looked over the data on them. It told her what she already suspected; the infiltrator would pose no threat to the cruiser in a fight. She would have to run if they were spotted.  
  
On the screen another group of dropships departed the cruiser's port side bays, bound for the planet. Talara gave her a bewildered look. "Shouldn't we engage?"  
  
"Not yet," she said. "They're still under a deflector shield. More cybertroopers won't do anything about that."  
  
"Then we will do…"  
  
Both went quiet as they felt it. A mental cry from the ship, a being - likely a telepath - in extreme _pain_. Another cry joined it. Talara swallowed. "Someone's being hurt over there."  
  
"Yeah." Lucy drew in a breath and focused herself inward. She couldn't stand by and allow that suffering to continue. But neither could she risk herself needlessly.  
  
A small smile came to her face. "I know what we're going to do. Hold on."  
  
Talara nodded, continuing to mind her station as Lucy triggered the impulsors again. The ship quickly closed the distance.  
  
  
  
  
Zara was torn. Nanites weren’t unknown, she knew that Shadows used them as armor on their ships and she knew about nanotechnology generally, but these Darglan nanites could form chest tubes spontaneously. On the other hand, the Flow of Life was just… she was still trying to wrap her head around the concept.  
  
“Captain Dale” She started. “How does sensitivity to the Flow of Life spread? I mean, we haven’t had that in this entire universe until interuniversal contact. Not that I know of anyway.”  
  
"There's no known way to spread it intentionally," Robert confided. "Even heredity isn't a guarantee of sensitivity, although there seems to be fairly even odds of being sensitive if a parent or other relative is." He shrugged. "Every group I've heard of has their own theories. Most of the Dorei orders, and the Miqo'te, believe those with sensitivity are divinely chosen. Among the Zigonians of S0T5 the belief is that Creation itself is alive and chooses who has these powers. The Gersallians believe it's simply something innate that can't be guessed. The lowest born or highest, any can have it. Swenya herself was born to itinerant travelers in a poor village."  
  
“Hmm.” She considered “Interesting but not what I meant. I mean that it’s new here. In this universe, as far as I know. So, would a cosmic force that crosses barriers between universes not, you know, be absent for the eons before we made contact with other realms of existence?”  
  
"You're assuming that the Flow of Life didn't exist in this universe before we arrived," he said. "That's not how it works. The Flow of Life is generated by life, especially sapient life. It's been here all along. But even those sensitive to it often never learn how to fully use it, not unless the potential is shown to them. If I'd never met Meridina, I would likely have never begun to tap it myself. At most, I'd have had a few dreams of possible futures, maybe a few instinctive insights here and there."  
  
"Sounds like mumbo jumbo to me," Hawk opined, running a check on his rifle.  
  
"Given you were able to access Darglan tech, Hawk, even you might be sensitive." The reply Robert received for that observation was a snort of derision.  
  
“I’m an empiricist.” Zara replied to Hawk in a tone that made it clear she questioned who the adults in the room were. “Clearly someone who can throw lightning around and connect others to the life-force of the cosmos is doing something interesting.”  
  
“She’s wicked smart.” Colin remarked from the periscope with an affectionate thought in his daughter’s direction. “Also sassy.”  
  
"A kid after my own heart," Hawk replied. "But whatever this stuff is, it's not for me."  
  
"He's not the most spiritual," Becca remarked from where she was sitting nearby.  
  
“Speaking of lightning actually, how did you do that? Moving things with your mind I can grasp, we have telekinetics even if most of them are insane but that goes a bit beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”  
  
"I split the positive and negative charges in the environment around me," he answered. "Then I directed the result. It's not easy, but I've practiced on the holodeck enough to get the basics." _And dealt with Tom griping about the damage to the chamber..._  
  
Robert could sense an exclamation mark in Zara’s head as she grasped an implication of that. Atomic nuclei were not heavy at all. “Hey Dad?”  
  
“Yeah little monkey?” Colin looked back at her.  
  
“I’ve had an idea. Most telekinetics are limited by the Newtons they can exert, right?” She asked. Colin could sense where she was going with it.  
  
“I see where you’re going, good idea but I’m not sure they’ll have the focus and mental discipline to do it. We can look into it though, might be worth trying. Isidora might be able to manage becoming a tesla coil though…”  
  
"It can be dangerous," Robert warned. "If the charges aren't precisely controlled, the resulting lightning could go anywhere. Even into yourself."  
  
“I’ll write her a message. Let her know to try it with static shocks and go from there.” Zara said, nodding sagely in response to the danger warning. “She might be a little off, but she knows her limits.”  
  
Colin chuckled warmly, letting Gene take over on the periscope, with their minds still joined it didn’t matter whose eyes they used. Colin did pause though, concentrating on something outside.  
  
"Still frying cyborgs?" Hawk asked.  
  
“HA! Got you, you bastard!” Gene shouted exuberantly.   
  
Colin laughed along with him before replying. “Yes.”  
  
“Yeah, I wanted to help them out but no. They said my childhood was messed up enough without me attacking things that used to be people.” Zara grumbled.  
  
_I agree_ , was Robert's immediate mental reaction.  
  
“Hey, we taught you how so you could if you ever got into trouble without us there to protect you. You’re not in trouble yet, and we’re right here.” Gene admonished her.  
  
_We can compartmentalize and not suffer moral injury. She would, even if they’re not really sapient anymore._ Colin informed Robert and Becca. _They still have a face._  
  
“Anyway, one more question before I start in on nanites… how do you handle the telekinesis? Ours, well, our friend Isidora is pretty sane, but it takes a toll. She can sense and affect inertia and momentum but the human brain doesn’t handle it well.”  
  
"I told you how my life force is connected to the universe through the Flow of Life," Robert explained. "It responds to my will. For example…" Robert held up a hand toward her. For Zara, there was a sensation of the floor not quite being as solid as it had been. She looked down to see she was being lifted from the ground, her feet currently five centimeters above the floor. At ten centimeters the ascent stopped.  
  
“This is so cool!” was the only thing she could think to say, but then floating there, she got a wicked grin on her face. “So basically, you’re not the one doing the...heavy lifting…” Gene laughed and kissed her on the head from across the room. Colin groaned.  
  
"No. And a good thing. I have it on good authority from Cat that the reaction force of what I can do would probably crush my brain." Robert seemed to be quietly focusing to maintain the effect. He just as gently let her down. "To be honest, two months ago I wouldn't have tried that. I didn't have enough faith in my fine control. Not everyone with sensitivity could."  
  
“Well you’re doing just fine now, and splitting charged particles takes a lot of finesse…” she encouraged him. “So… are those nanites networked? Can they be hacked?”  
  
The question was obviously directed at Hawk. He grunted, "No."  
  
Becca glyphed that a successful hacking of the nanites was unlikely, but that they are networked.  
  
“Huh. Because they’re smart enough to do complex things and that requires programming and communications. Earth Alliance nanites can only do the one job. But anything that communicates and has code can be compromised.”  
  
"Well, it's not like Hawk's going to admit it, is it?" Robert asked playfully.  
  
Hawk's response was to lift his left hand, the back outward, and send a single sliver of silver material up between his inner knuckles.  
  
“Hey! There are children present! Think of The Children!” and everyone could hear the trademark symbol in Zara’s voice.  
  
Robert chuckled at that. There was a light-hearted giggle of amusement from Becca as well. A sound that he suspected she rarely made.  
  
“So they’re smart nanites, they can be programmed, probably hacked even if you don’t know how, and you don’t understand the technology. This seems like a Grey Goo scenario waiting to happen, why would you agree to that? The risk seems pretty high. Useful, but… risky.” Zara both asked, and commented.  
  
"They're too useful not to use," was Hawk's reply. "The Darglan thought so too."  
  
Robert narrowed his eyes at that. Given the more advanced nature of said nanites and Hawk's weapon, not to mention the _Avenger_ being built for war, he had a strong suspicion just what that Facility Hawk found had been used for. _The Darglan would have been desperate enough to try_ anything _to fight the Darkness.._.  
  
"Besides, that's why we use their brainwave infusions," Hawk said. "It lets us understand the tech. My cousins have made damn sure these things won't go haywire on us."  
  
“No, they just go haywire on other people and harm you indirectly.” Max finally spoke up. “Programming is, ultimately, only as good as the programmer. Hassan taught me that much before he shipped out.”  
  
Robert wondered what he meant, but he had an idea of that when he noticed the forlorn look on Becca's face. _Please tell me you're being careful,_ he thought. _Those things shouldn't be used more than once every six months.  
  
I have had two_, she admitted. _Five months apart_.  
  
He cringed in reply. At least it was just two, but he didn't know how soon damage would set in. _Then don't have another one for a while. Make sure_.  
  
_I will avoid it if at all possible_ she assured him. Although it was not the assurance he wanted.  
  
The screens in the control area showed another series of dropships landing. The ones so far had only deployed more cybertroopers, making up for damaged or destroyed ones. But these dropships had something else being unloaded. Robert stood up, feeling confident with his injured foot, and strolled over to get a better look at the feed. They had with them a cylinder of sorts, containing the guts of what looked like a projector. Robert looked it over and a sudden, horrible realization came to him.  
  
The other telepaths felt it. 'What's wrong?" asked Becca.  
  
Sensing the curiosity of the others, Robert let his mind compare what he was seeing to imagery from a recording on New Caprica. While the housing was different, they were clearly the same thing. "Reich weapons," he said. "Torpedo energy projectors. Specifically the kind used in Reich shield-disrupting torpedoes."  
  
“Great. Nazis, the gift that keeps on giving.” Gene said.  
  
Before anything further could be said, the first of the devices was set on a stable platform and activated. A beam of light connected it to the bunker's protective field, which began to flicker and distort at the impact point. Inside the building their screens showed them what was happening. Steadily the bunker's protective deflectors were losing coherency. They had maybe ten minutes before the shield fell.  
  
Perhaps even less, as even more of the weapons came online, weakening the shield further.  
  
"Well, I think we're going to need a new plan," Robert said, watching one of the screens show the deflector's increasing loss of strength.  
  
  
  
  
Various forms of deflector shielding existed in the Multiverse. Some could be tuned to allow things out without lowering shields, and such was true for the D3R1 deflectors. But virtually all required shields to be lowered, at least sectionally, to allow things back _in_.  
  
As the infiltrator approached the slaver cruiser, Lucy spotted what she hoped to find, what she _knew_ she would find. A line of dropships were flying in to return to the cruiser. "Hold on," she instructed Talara, kicking the infiltrator into a high-energy maneuver that brought it toward the line of dropships.  
  
Not just toward, but within. Talara watched with silent apprehension as Lucy nudged the ship right into the line, ensuring they would get through the small hole formed in the deflectors. There was barely a meter of clearance on either end. This was a feat no pilot could pull off with complete confidence.  
  
No pilot, that is, save Lucy. She could feel the energy within her guiding her movements, allowing her to remain in place all the way in. At the bay the line split up, relieving them of the risk from behind, each dropship landing. A line of cybertroopers was present at each bay, awaiting embarkation. The infiltrator remained just outside of the open bay, unable to fit with the dropship ahead in place. Lucy fired lateral thrusters gently and lined them up with the middle section of the bay, facing the door directly.  
  
"Talara, the pulse guns. Set them to automatic targeting, all dropships and cybertroopers."  
  
"Doing so now." Talara relayed weapons control to her station and programmed the targeting systems to attack the targets Lucy listed. "Ready."  
  
Lucy, meanwhile, used a free hand to relay plasma cannon control to her station. She targeted the dropship ahead. "Decloak and open fire… _now_."  
  
With a stab of her finger Talara disengaged the cloaking device. Power surged into the weapons' capacitors. Half a second later every weapon fired.  
  
The sapphire pulses from the plasma cannons utterly wrecked the dropship ahead, turning it into a fireball. The shockwave struck the cybertroopers and knocked them away. The lighter pulses from the pulse guns ripped into the other dropships, destroying their engines, before the turrets on the bottom of the ship started tracking and shooting the cybertroopers still standing.  
  
Lucy triggered the forward plasma cannons again, vaporizing much of the carcass of the dropship ahead. This gave her room to land the infiltrator. By the time she did alarms were going off on the cruiser. She activated the ship's sentry mode and tied it to both of their omnitools before releasing her harness. Talara was already loose and running toward the rear of the ship. They went through the cargo bay, Talara grabbing a pulse rifle and grenade bandolier as they did. She pulled it on as they charged from the cargo bay. The pulse guns and the prior havoc of the infiltrator's main guns had already removed most of the cybertroopers. Talara shot one down with her rifle while Lucy threw two more out into space through the open bay door. Once they had a moment, she used her omnitool. The infiltrator cargo ramp closed behind them. "The ship is sealed," she said. "And the pulse guns should make short work of anything that threatens the ship."  
  
"Giving us time to save any prisoners?"  
  
"Exactly." Lucy pulled her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it. Talara admired the way her teacher looked, like a heroine of old in her purple armor, blue robe, and the blue light of her lightsaber burning bright. Her dark curly hair was left free to fall to her shoulders. _If the armor was only slightly different I could imagine she was a Paladin of Voltron, like in the legends_ , Talara thought, although having actually met a Paladin of Voltron, she knew the legends and art her people made of them were not quite accurate.  
  
The cargo bay door was sealed by whatever alarm went off. Talara expected Lucy to cut it open with her lightsaber, but instead Lucy held her omnitool up to the controls. "Hacking app, courtesy of the Paladin Special Operations Office," she said to Talara. A moment later the door opened. They entered a hall and immediately came under fire, fire that Lucy's lightsaber began batting back at the source. Talara followed her, firing down the other end of the corridor to suppress enemies there. "This way!" Lucy shouted.


	5. Chapter 5

They didn't have time to do much else. "I'll go out," Robert said. "I can start removing this torpedoes while remaining in the shield."  
  
"And we'll get defenses set up should the shield fail," Colin answered.  
  
Gene went with Robert to the door and opened it for him. Robert stepped outside, alone. There was just enough space within the shield dome for him to take several steps toward the perimeter. The enemy troopers raised weapons but did not fire.  
  
Robert noticed one approach who was not Coserian. A human male with cybernetic enhancements, with olive-toned skin, he spoke with an unrecognizable accent. "Have you come to negotiate terms?"  
  
Robert replied by cutting his hand through the air in front of him. The gesture made focusing his will easier, and focus it he did, causing a blade of force to slice through the air and smash the nearest torpedo, breaking it to pieces. Robert turned his attention to the next and repeated the process again and again, knowing that each torpedo broken bought them more time.  
  
But they had more than he'd imagined. Even as some beams died, others started to fire up elsewhere, in an arc surrounding the structure. Undaunted, Robert continued to smash them.  
  
  
  
  
The deflector shield strength was decreasing every moment that preparations were made for the necessary sally from the bunker. As the two Psi Cops got the teams ready with the planned equipment, Hawk leaned over where Becca was sitting. "How's the wound?"  
  
For a moment Becca said nothing, consulting the nanites through her neural controls for them. They helpfully provided an overlay in her vision, no different than the kind Colin had used telepathically to explain Hawk's brain, that reflected the damage in question. "Internal injuries are healed," she said. "They're sealing the epidermal injuries."  
  
"And your lung cavity?"  
  
"Clear of air. Everything's fine."  
  
"Still, I want you to stay in here," Hawk said. He handed her a bar from his ration pack. "Get your energy back up and finish healing."  
  
"You're going to need everyone you can get…"  
  
"And we'll have it," he insisted. "These Corps types are well-armed, relatively anyway." He stood and picked up his rifle. "Get your energy back up and heal up. If we need you, you'll know."  
  
Becca watched him join the others. The bunker door slid open and the Corps telepaths went out. They'd trained for this kind of activity, and under the guidance of the two Psi Cops they set up portable energy barriers to take cover behind, creating a defensive line outside of the bunker. Hawk leveled his rifle. Most of the enemy cybertroopers were taking cover to avoid fire they couldn't retaliate to, but he picked a couple off before they could get out of sight.  
  
As they set up Robert moved to the other side of the building, where more shield disruptors were being employed. Again and again he smashed them, even as the shield dome visibly lost strength. _This is going to be close_...  
  
  
  
  
Coserian cybertroopers in close quarters were incredibly dangerous to any foe, given their speed and resilience, and Lucy was careful in dealing with the ones ahead. Their EM-shielded blades, made of metal not dissimilar to that of Gersallian _lakesh_ es, gave them some immediate resilience against lightsabers.  
  
But only some.  
  
After four parries Lucy successfully cleaved through one of the blades, splitting it in half before maneuvering her weapon to slice through its wielder's neck, destroying vital circuitry and effectively killing the creature. Its partner swiped again, blade already glowing from prior contact with her weapon. Lucy dodged the swipe and retaliated with her own. The last thing the Coserian cybertrooper saw was blue light coming toward its head.  
  
There was a sharp impact behind Lucy. Talara, fatigued but determined, threw another attacker against the far bulkhead. These were not cybertroopers but regular crew, armed but not able to resist being stunned by the impacts from Talara's efforts. She fired a stun shot that put the man down. "There are human crew too."  
  
"Right." Lucy stepped over the two slain cybertroopers. They were basic ones, arguably already dead and nothing more than combat drones installed into mindless bodies. If she were still using a _lakesh_ the fight might've taken half an hour, if she won at all. _If the Coserians ever figure out new countermeasures against our weapons, these things will be pains in the ass_ , Lucy thought as she tried to access the door. She sensed fear on the other end of the door, fear and despair, with some smattering of hope.  
  
This time the hacking app wasn't coming through. The security on the cargo door was enhanced to the degree that Lucy had to shut down her omnitool to keep counter-attack software from causing any damage. It was as if a dedicated AI had control of the confinement system. "Alright, the direct way," she said. She thrust her lightsaber into the heavy metal portal. The metal around her blade turned white hot and started melting, giving off heat that would have baked her hands if she weren't in her combat armor. She slowly ran the lightsaber up the door, melting away more of it. Behind her Talara fired another burst from her rifle, forcing a crewmember of the slaver ship back into cover. Both felt increasing hope from the other side of the door.  
  
Lucy's cut went up to the level of her head and past, then over. She started a downward cut and brought it back down to about the level of her waist. "That ought to do it," she said aloud, pulling her lightsaber out. She focused her will and pushed her hand against the door, exerting force with her life energy as she did. The door, weakened by her cut, blew open.  
  
Through the door, in a darkened chamber, were a series of cages. In each were manacled Human figures chained together, so many per cage. Some of them had clothes partly ripped away, partially baring their chests and backs and revealing wounds ranging from bruises and welts to long scarred ribbons that reminded Lucy of the old days of raiding slave plantations on Earth C1P2. Some of the imprisoned were children, quite a few were adolescents and teenagers, and there were maybe fifteen, twenty adults. Among the adults were three figures still wearing dark gloves with brass Psi pins on their chests, with one of the teenagers similarly-clad.  
  
Talara entered behind Lucy, who stared in shock for a moment at the sight before grimly lifting her lightsaber. One by one she cut away the bars of the cages, opening gaping holes in them. Her will crushed and split the chains holding the manacles together, freeing the imprisoned. She sensed the minds of the assembled. "You're all telepaths?"  
  
"Yes," answered one of the adults, a man who looked to be from the Indian subcontinent, one of those with a Psi Corps badge. "They captured us separately, or bought us."  
  
"We're here to get you out," said Lucy. "We have a ship, we'll lead you back to it. Are any of you good with a rifle?"  
  
The same man volunteered, as did a woman in another of the cages. Since the Indian man was already free, he took up the rifle. Another of the telepaths stood nearby, using her mental powers to attack the enemy crew outside in conjunction with the Psi Corps telepath. Talara, freed from being a door guard, helped Lucy free the other prisoners. In all there were fifty-three telepaths, Lucy counted. _They'll all fit in the ship at least_ she thought.  
  
Even before Lucy cut free the woman who volunteered for rifle duty, she was speaking into Lucy's mind. _I am Antonia di Giuseppe. There are two young telepaths not with us. Fraternal twins. They were taken earlier to be… used by these monsters_.  
  
Lucy frowned. Antonia herself certainly looked worked over. What was once a fashionable dark jacket and comfortable blue blouse had seemingly been ripped from her at some point, along with her bra, so that she was an errant wind gust away from the common perception of indecency. A bronze Psi pin glinted on the intact strip of fabric over her heart. Her visible skin, fair with a tanned tint of Mediterranean color, was marked with welts and cuts. Lucy sensed the remnant mark of horrible pain in the woman's being. She had been tortured extensively, beyond the visible injuries.  
  
_They feed off our pain_ , another telepath thought, sensing Lucy's bewilderment over their condition. _It gives them pleasure to feel it_. A male stepped up beside her, or rather a teenager Lucy thought, without a Psi Corps marking. He too had been worked over. _They took them…_  
  
Lucy nodded and focused. She felt the swelling hope of liberation around her, though still marked by fear. There was also fear in the crew. Fear of capture, of failure. Frustration. Hate at the "mindfreaks" that put them in this position. And not too far away, she felt pain. Pain and fear and, with it… immense gratification and satisfaction at the same, such that Lucy's stomach twisted from how sick it felt to confirm what she was being told. "I'll get them, I promise," Lucy pledged.  
  
"I can show you were," Antonia offered. Her English was good, but quite Italian.  
  
"You've suffered enough." Lucy gestured to Talara, who was freeing the very last prisoner at that moment. "Everyone, go with Talara, she'll take you to our ship!"  
  
"You will need me," Antonia insisted. "I can bring you to them. I know the way to where they were taken."  
  
Lucy almost said no, but she sensed the desperate need in Antonia. Everything she'd gone through to this point, everything she'd suffered, was to save those two teenagers. Lucy relented with a nod. "Stay behind me," she instructed. To Talara she added, "I won't be long."  
  
"I will secure the others," Talara affirmed.  
  
With that Lucy departed first, her erstwhile ally behind her, deflecting shots from the crew outside until they went down, put to sleep by mental command. They moved onward through the ship.  
  
Talara watched them go and drew in a breath. She felt unsettled here, with all of the pain and despair. But she knew she had to persevere. All of these people were counting on her. "This way," she said to the Human telepaths. With the telepath carrying her rifle beside her, Talara led them back toward the infiltrator.  
  
  
  
  
With a crash the last of the torpedo assemblies fell apart, the electronics smashed beyond repair. The last beam disrupting the deflector field around the bunker fell away. Robert completed his circuit around the building to where the sole entrance was being carefully guarded. _Deflector status?  
  
Fifteen percent_ was Colin's mental reply. Robert didn't see him looking at any displays, so he imagined Zara or Becca relayed the information. _Cohesion is almost gone_.  
  
_Still, the shields will regenerate now, and they don't_ …  
  
Before he could complete the thought fire started to strike the shield. The cybertroopers, most still in cover, were letting loose. Blue plasma bolts dissipated against the deflector shield, which seemed to be exerting minimal effort to repel the fire. Hawk retaliated with his rifle on its grenade blast mode, firing big blue bolts that exploded like plasma grenades, further damaging the nearby buildings and the rubble of those already destroyed. Some of the shots dissipated against deflector barriers set up by the cybertroopers, providing them cover as well.  
  
The dropships swooped in next. They opened up with their weapons, spraying the deflector field with rockets and plasma fire as well, and all over their heads. _They're focusing their fire to break down the shield!_ Robert raised a hand and used his will to throw one dropship into another, sending both to crash. As the others continued to fire he repeated this.  
  
_Thirteen percent!_ he heard a mind shout. Zara's mind. _Twelve!  
  
Go back into the inner bunker!_ Colin ordered.  
  
Robert half-expected her to disobey, to protest, but she didn't. He sensed terror from the girl, terror at losing her dads, but she obeyed their command. She would seal the inner blast doors behind her, buying more time for the telepaths in the lower levels to get help.  
  
There was still the matter at hand. With his power Robert smashed another dropship into the ground. But its side-mounted rocket launchers still fired its final salvos, spraying the shield in front of them with repeated blasts. The field clearly continued to degrade…  
  
The cybertroopers rushed forward from cover, still firing, and the telepaths returned fire immediately while some of their number were packing up the portable deflectors. For the moment they had the advantage, with the deflector absorbing all return fire, allowing only them the benefit of effective fire. To add to their effectiveness Colin and Gene led the other telepaths of sufficient strength in attacking the cyborgs' cybernetic parts.  
  
Robert brought down the second-to-last dropship with a lighting bolt, turning it into a flaming ruin. The last one's rocket launchers reloaded from internal bays and fired another salvo. He felt instinctive danger and projected force ahead of them, backing up the field, and felt the strain of the rockets striking his field.  
  
The deflector field hadn't stopped the rockets. Its cohesion was gone. It was collapsing.  
  
Robert felt the morale drop in the others. Their gambit to preserve the field had failed. He took the moment for a quick and dirty push against the last dropship, smashing it to the ground and crushing several cybertroopers beneath, including one of those dangerous Human ones. There was no time for further intense attacks as enemy fire was now dangerous to them. His lightsaber flashed to life in time to deflect the first shot that might have touched him. His arms moved instinctively to put the weapon wherever a bolt might have otherwise struck him.  
  
On the opposite flank Hawk projected a shield with his nanites, making one that fit around his rifle so he could continue to fire.  
  
From behind their cover the telepaths were returning fire as well as they could, trying to cover those retreating into the bunker. But they were still normal Humans physically, save for the parts of their brains that allowed telepathy. They had little hope of accurate fire. All they could do was lay down such a continuing barrage that being struck was certain for the enemy, buying time for their fellows to retreat back into the bunker.  
  
The other side knew that. The Human cyborgs, and the officer Coserian ones, let the more-controlled, less-capable grunt cybertroopers take the front and the brunt of the punishment while they focused fire on an individual section of the defensive perimeter. Hiding behind their own troops wouldn’t protect the Coserian commandos, and coordinated telepathic attacks decimated their ranks. Nonetheless heavy coordinated fire descended upon one of the generators, on Robert's side of the line. The field held momentarily, but as the fire on it increased it continued to degrade.   
  
On the opposite end Hawk grunted as his rifle's charge ran out. With enemy fire chipping away at his shield almost as fast as Hawk's nanites could make repairs there would be no lowering it. He transferred his rifle to his left hand and used his right to pull another charge clip from his belt. Gripping it against his palm with his thumb, his fingers worked the slide to expose and eject the drained clip. He placed the new one in, closed the clip chamber, and restored the small port for the rifle's barrel to continue returning fire. He growled in frustration; this wasn't how he preferred to fight. He'd rather get in close and work with his blades, match these things speed for speed. But if he moved, it would expose the flank and get these people killed.  
  
_Here I am, holding the line for the people I thought I was coming to kill. Goddamned irony_.  
  
One of the other telepaths casted a response back. _And here we are, trusting our lives to a homicidal maniac. How do you think we feel?_  
  
Hawk's reply was a sharp, rich laugh. He swapped the rifle back to grenade mode and fired a burst that sent two cybertroopers flying.  
  
On the left end of the line, a besieged section of deflector finally gave out from repeated shots. The telepaths were exposed. Single shots of deadly accuracy struck one after another in rapid succession, killing three outright. The fourth kept firing. A big woman of Middle Eastern or Central Asian extraction, she refused to flinch, firing an automatic shotgun that eviscerated a cybertrooper as it came over the disabled field generator's base. She swiveled the weapon to shoot another foe doing the same, but the cybertrooper was too fast. It thrust with its arm and drove a lengthening blade into her chest, bisecting heart and lung. She died in seconds. Though Robert didn't feel it, he knew the mindscream would impact the others just the same.  
  
_Hold the line!_ echoed the minds of Gene and Colin desperately, a moment after they broke the brain of one of the Human cyborgs, and drew monomolecular blades. Already the other telepaths on that side were re-directing their fields to take up the gap. Max avenged the fallen telepaths by rapid fire shots into the heads of the troopers that got through, but not before one of them stabbed another telepath through the side of the neck, severing the spine. Another mindscream rippled through the others, and Robert felt them despair.  
  
" _We're losing one over here!_ " Hawk roared, and all knew he meant another section of the field. " _Get back to the bunker!_ "  
  
_The moment we fall back, those things will overrun us_ , Robert thought, deflecting a shot into the head of a rushing foe. Another cybertrooper got close enough to lash at him with its blade. He moved enough that the strike only clipped armor at his side, causing no damage, and drove his lightsaber through the creature's neck, killing it instantly. A plasma bolt seared his left arm and he grimaced before deflecting the next shot.  
  
And then another section of the line failed. More lives winked out before the other generators compensated, pushing them to the brink. Hawk had to backpedal and swivel to avoid getting shot as their line contracted. Robert felt the surge in fear and frustration in him, fueling his anger. He knew he might die here, and had a natural fear of that; more than that, he was angry that he was losing to beings he _hated_. He wanted nothing less but to rip them all apart.  
  
Robert knew that kind of frustration. The cybertroopers were too quick for the telepaths once it came to melee; Gene and Colin were holding their own through a combination of footwork and seamless mental coordination, but they couldn’t go on the offensive. They were hard-pressed just to stay alive against one or two cybertroopers. Despite their efforts the enemy's strategy of burning out one section at a time was working. There was no winning this. Hearing a mental call for help and a cry of pain Robert visualized what was behind him: a cybertrooper loose behind the line, its blade stuck in Max's side, the trooper about to kill. He nearly acted, but didn't need to. Hawk turned and, while his left arm kept the decaying nanite shield up, his right arm whipped out. A forged blade of nanite metal slammed into the back of the cybertrooper's head, killing it before it could kill Max.  
  
But more troopers were coming, and another section of the shield was on the verge of failure, and it all seemed so hopeless...  
  
And that was when he felt a mental cry of desperation echo from within the bunker.  
  
  
  
  
As the battle raged outside Becca could feel the desperate courage of the telepaths start to become despair. She knew what that was like. She'd felt it before, in Zonguldak, as they were picked off platoon by platoon, squad by squad. Death or a terrible fate the only outcomes available.  
  
And then the mindscreams began. She felt the door open and shut. Again and again, as more telepaths died. She heard Gene's demand to hold the line, the feeling from the others that it wouldn't matter. She heard James' mind, frustrated, enraged, _helpless_. She could hear Robert's mind flash with desperate thoughts, on whether he could save the situation by cutting loose, or if it'd just make things worse. She felt his mental cry from being wounded.  
  
And Max. Just as desperate. Just as determined to protect.  
  
_Stop it. Stop it. Oh G-d LET IT STOP._ Becca's eyes filled with hot tears. James, Max, Captain Dale, those two Psi Cops, they were all going to die out there. While she was in here. Doing nothing. Surviving yet again.  
  
" _NO!_ " she screamed aloud, and in her mind, in desperation. Despite the lingering pain in her side Becca stood to her feet. Her mind rang with determination as she gave the order through her neural link.  
  
**_ENGAGE COMBAT MODE_.**  
  
  
  
  
Every mind in the compound heard those three words. Robert felt Hawk's disbelief and horror at them. _What is she doing?!_ **_Becca, NO!_**  
  
A fierce, desperate reply rang from her mind. **_NOT AGAIN!!!_**  
  
The blast door swung open. Becca emerged through the door covered in the silver nanite material. As she took her first step out the material shifted. It started to form armor plates and material, flexible machined joints, and a new helmet. The coloring shifted to be primarily blue, with some of the joints and parts remaining silver, as did the face. Eyepieces formed on the face of the helmet, lighting up as the material completed its transformation.  
  
Robert could see her through the eyes of Max, wounded and lying against the bunker wall. It looked like she was wearing a light power armor suit. The helmet and facemask of it even reminded him a little bit of comic book-style armor that Tom had been so enamored with growing up.  
  
There was a roar in the air as Becca fired thrusters built into the back of the suit. She launched herself toward the nearest enemy, a cybertrooper that was about to cleave a telepath's head in two with its blade. Her blades shot through the wrists of her suit and plunged into the creature. Both flew over a disabled projector base and outside of the defensive perimeter. She jumped off her foe as they hit the ground, raising her arms in the same motion. From each palm a lance of sapphire light erupted, spearing two cybertroopers and one going on to slice through the head of a third. She cried in challenge and rushed forward, faster than ever before, to drive her blades into one of the commanding Human cyborgs while he was aiming elsewhere.  
  
Some of Becca's desperation and defiance rubbed off on Robert, intentionally or not. He forgot caution and summoned all of his focus. When he sent out another wave, he managed to keep it focused enough to do what it needed to do. The broad blast of invisible force threw every cybertrooper ahead of him flying backward at such speeds that they took damage as they broke through the structures and rubble beyond. Freed from fighting for his life for the second, Robert turned to take in the battle. Or rather, Becca. She was busy finishing off one of the Human cyborgs when two of the normal ones shot her in the side. The impacts didn't seem to enter her armor, although she still recoiled. Her head turned toward them and her right arm raised; in rapid shots she took out both with whatever weapon was in her palm.  
  
But there was something wrong, Robert thought. With the tenor of her desperation, the ferocity of her attacks despite her injuries, and with Hawk's horror at what she was doing. He focused on her for another moment, felt the ebbing in her being.  
  
" _Stand down!_ " Hawk shouted over the din of the battle. "Dammit Becca, that's an order!"  
  
**_I will not be the last one again!_** was the desperate reply.  
  
_She's killing herself_. That horrified thought came from Colin. When Robert had momentary confusion at it, Colin mindcast the information into his head. The two Psi Cops could sense her body's energy decreasing. As if the electrical energy in the body was being steadily drained away.  
  
And then Robert understood what he was feeling. "Combat Mode" required her body's natural bioelectricity to operate, somehow. And the longer she was in it, the more would be used up.  
  
If she didn't shut down the nanites' combat mode soon, Becca would die.  
  
  
  
  
The internal corridors of the ship changed the moment after Lucy stepped out of the manual access ladder tube and onto the higher deck. Instead of the used dark beige walls with tubing for internal systems showing sometimes in the white ceiling and ladders, there was an opulent, well-kept wall of brilliant blue. The floor wasn't basic insulated covering of dull gray, but a fine carpet of red and white. In total she felt like she'd stepped out into a luxury hotel, the kind that cost a year of her salary to stay in for a night.  
  
Antonia stepped off the ladder behind her. She clutched a pistol taken from one of the fallen crew. _This way_ she mindcast to Lucy, who nodded and followed down the hall, igniting her lightsaber should she need it. Its hum filled the corridor, which was brightly-lit enough that the blade didn't shine off the walls as much as it had on the decks below.  
  
They passed by a dining room with a luxurious cast to it, fine plushed dining chairs and a large wooden table with what looked like a silken table cloth over it. Lucy frowned at the thought of how much human misery had funded this elegance. She sensed agreement from Antonia, and bitter recollection.  
  
They rounded one hall, passed by an entrance to what looked like a specialized kitchen, and approached another corridor. As Antonia stepped up to the corner Lucy felt danger and reached out. She grabbed Antonia by the arm and yanked her back.  
  
A blast of energy slammed into the wall, passing through the space the battered woman had nearly stepped into.  
  
"I'll handle this," Lucy said confidently. She stepped around the corner, weapon ready, and deflected the first shot fired at her into the arm of the shooter.  
  
The members of the crew ahead were definitely not the same as those below. Each was dressed in rich clothing, uniforms of green and blue and white, and they had rifles with them, although one was clearly favoring a wounded arm. Two of the half-dozen uniformed people had eyes of reddish-brown coloring, one with tanned skin and the other with light. Among them was a towering woman of dark brown coloring, like someone from the Indian subcontinent, who had a medal arm and other clear cyborg enhancement. She cried out something in an alien language Lucy's translator didn't immediately identify and the servants opened fire.  
  
One thing was clear; they were _bad_ at it. Lucy only had to bat a couple of shots, the rest missing. She retaliated with a wave of force that knocked all but the cyborg woman off their feet. Behind her Antonia moved up and started firing her gun. Even as she did a couple started wailing in surprise; she was seizing control of their optical nerves and shutting off the input, blinding them. They writhed on the ground in a panic.  
  
The cyborg lifted a big damn rifle. Lucy didn't even want to consider what it would do to her and forced it upward. It fired into the ceiling, creating a blast wave that threw the cyborg back into the others, knocking down those among the uniform-clad guards who had started to stand. While Antonia continued to fire with some slight accuracy, Lucy charged ahead. The cyborg got back to its feet and rushed ahead as well, drawing a short sword that looked as lethal as it did ornamental. Lucy realized it was a monomolecular blade a moment before parrying her attacker. The cyborg was fast, just as fast as she was, and they exchanged several swings. "We're here for the kids," Lucy growled, more out of habit than any thought of communication.  
  
"You are here to steal my masters' property," the cyborg replied, her accent unfamiliar. "For this you will die." The tone was rigid, emotionless, very matter-of-fact.  
  
"People aren't property!" Lucy shouted as she parried another blow. The blade was getting red. A few more strikes and it would be broken.  
  
Her opponent seemed to notice that as well. Lucy was stunned at how quickly the sidearm came up. Without time to get her lightsaber into position Lucy instinctively stepped to the side. The resulting shot tore through the side of her belly, ripping through armor and grazing her skin before going out through her robe. The flicker of pain this caused proved no distraction, and it certainly didn't keep Lucy from exploiting their new positioning. She swung the lightsaber down toward the blade, this time bringing it through the wrist of the hand holding it. The hand fell in a small shower of sparks.  
  
The cyborg, undeterred, tracked with the gun, intent to fire again, but Lucy spun away too quickly for her. Her lightsaber came back up and made a lateral cut through the air, straight through the cyborg's neck. Head and body fell away.  
  
Lucy turned her attention to the others, but she needn't have bothered. Each was dead or unconscious. Only some had been shot. Antonia walked up behind her, gun clutched in her hand. Given the condition of her clothes it gave her an almost feral look. "The others will wake up," she said, answering the question forming in Lucy's head. "Eventually."  
  
"Right." Lucy turned her attention to the door ahead. It was sealed shut, and the external panel was offline. Not wanting to risk her omnitool against whatever countermeasure had nearly gotten it before, Lucy brought up her lightsaber and plunged it into the door. This door wasn't quite as thick, so she took only a few seconds to cut a hole through it. Her will knocked the cut out part inward, sending it falling to the ground, where the melted, still-hot ends scorched the fine carpet at their feet.  
  
Standing in the middle of the room was a woman wearing what looked like a silver negligee, revealing a solid, if not athletically fit, body. Her eyes glinted red, her dark hair wild and loose, and her skin marble white in coloring. Lucy sensed Antonia react to her presence with disgust and pain.  
  
The woman's arm was wrapped around a thin, wiry teenage girl, about sixteen or seventeen, with olive-toned skin similar to Lucy's and Antonia's, brown hair, and gray eyes. The girl was half-naked, or more accurately, nine-tenths naked with a bottom that would barely count as a bikini bottom. Her bare chest was obscured by the left arm of the red-eyed woman, her shoulders confined in place by the right arm. Against the girl's neck was a knife clasped in the woman's right hand, already drawing a steady drip of blood from the skin, which went with the remaining cuts visible on her body from a vicious whipping. Nearby, sprawled out on the floor, a young man with similar colorations save having brown eyes was looking up with terror. He too was mostly unclothed, having only something that barely passed for a speedo, and his body was covered in wounds.  
  
Aside from the hostage situation, what was in the room was enough to make Lucy sick. The bedroom was opulent, with a big bed and fine cabinets, designed in a way that was unfamiliar to her, to a different aesthetic than those she was used to. But on the far wall were manacles hanging from dedicated fittings. A variety of whips and striking canes were near the sets of manacles. She sensed Antonia desire to rub at her wrists at the sight of them.  
  
Those red eyes glared with haughty anger. "You will _leave_ , Alliancer," she demanded, her voice having a similar accent to the one the dead cyborg had used.  
  
"Not without them," Lucy said, holding her lightsaber steady.  
  
"They are mine. As is that one." The red eyes shifted enough to tell Lucy she meant Antonia. "Leave now or this one dies."  
  
It took only a moment for Lucy to know she meant it. The girl was a disposable toy, to be thrown away when the red-eyed woman so desired. Her foe believed herself above all others save her own kind. Everyone, even Lucy, was only fit to be a slave. A treasured one, if competent, but property of their natural superiors. It was as if this woman and those like her were made to embody everything Lucy and her family on the _Aurora_ opposed.  
  
Since any sudden movement could lead to the hostage's death, Lucy didn't move. She didn't need to. She focused her will, reached out with her life energy, and willed the knife to fly out of the woman's hand. It did so immediately, ripped from her grasp by a force the slaver hadn't seen or felt coming. It clinked against the wall beside the bed and hit the floor. With her hand suddenly empty the slaver's eyes widened. Her jaw dropped and her grip on her prisoner weakened, allowing Lucy to pull the girl free with a simple gesture.  
  
Antonia brought the gun up. It barked once. There was a flash of energy and the back of the red-eyed woman's head exploded, spraying blood and brain over the floor and far wall. Her body collapsed to the floor.  
  
The teenage boy went to his sister's side, holding her closely as she began to weep.  
  
Antonia was weeping too. Not from having killed the red-eyed woman, although Lucy could tell she wasn't used to violence, but in literal sympathy with the twins. She knew what they'd suffered, she had as well. Lucy felt their minds touch. Antonia dropped to her knees and they went to her, throwing arms around her. There was intense guilt in the younger telepaths that Antonia tried to soothe. After eying the dead woman again, Lucy went over to the tools of pain on the wall and sliced them in half with her lightsaber. As she did, tears welled in her blue eyes, and old wounds flared again on her skin, which had long been healed.  
  
She'd seen these kinds of things before, after all. In that damned room that the Duffys had locked her in. Phil Duffy had enjoyed using them on her too. She balled her fist and closed her eyes, trying to control the upswell of emotion from the memories of pain and fear and anguish, and his devilish grin as she cried out from the pain…  
  
_Not the time. Not when I'm on a slaver ship_ , she made herself think. After slicing the manacles from the wall she turned to the three telepaths consoling each other. "We need to go," she said to them. "Before they trap us in here."  
  
"Agreed," Antonia said. She stood and the twins did as well. The girl kept her arms self-consciously tight over her chest.  
  
"Back to the ladder tube, then." Lucy moved ahead of them to lead the way back to the ship and to freedom.  
  
  
  
  
The fight outside the bunker had lost its desperate tinge from before. Becca's ferocious counterattack completely disrupted the cybertroopers' assault. She continued in that attack, fighting her way toward the last of the Human cyborgs still on the field, ignoring every strike against her armor, even as it started to show the effects of damage.  
  
The reprieve Becca provided gave the defenders an opportunity to get their wounded back into the bunker. Robert refused the medical telepath who offered him the same. Instead he tapped at his omnitool and triggered his armor's built-in medigel dispenser, dispensing the substance to his wounded arm to restore full functionality.  
  
_Fall back to the bunker!_ Becca urged them. They felt her pain when several cyborgs focused fire enough to knock her back. She got back up and retaliated with more blasts from the emitters in her hands.  
  
Over the din of the continued battle, Hawk's voice roared. " _Stop it Becca! For God's sake, you're going to kill yourself!_ "  
  
_I know_ was her only reply.  
  
Colin and Gene weren’t about to let her do that, not on her own. With a mental command their compatriots pushed the deflector generators in front of them slightly outward, giving them a brief opening to rush out past the defenses. They relied on their kinetic barriers and body armor to protect themselves from incoming fire and surged forward; they’d worked out a way to fight cybertroopers in close-quarters. One of them would disrupt electronics and slow them down, the other would attack with his blade. They rotated who took each position, occasionally joining their minds to fry the implants of one at longer range.  
  
They weren't alone. Still on the flank of the deflector line, Robert dashed ahead, lightsaber swishing in the air, throwing waves of force every which way to disrupt the enemy and keep them from overwhelming Gene and Colin. He felt Becca's body ready to fail and was surprised to see her find the strength to move on.  
  
For the second time that night, a desperate mind thought **_ENGAGE COMBAT MODE_**. Now it was Hawk's body that became enveloped in the silvery fluid of nanite material. It hardened around him as it had Becca, forming a similar set of blue and silver armor. Hawk dashed forward, the thrusters on the back flaring with white-blue light, and his blades rang out as he drove them into any foe that dared get in the way.  
  
While the four surged to her rescue, Becca was pulling the last of the officer cybertroopers off her blade, allowing her to confront the final of the Human cyborgs. He moved even faster than the best of the Coserian ones, dodging her blade strikes and punching her hard enough to send her flying. Becca righted herself in mid-air with bursts from the thruster assembly on the back of the armor, allowing her to land on her feet. She raised her hands and fired, twin blasts that struck a forcefield around the cyborg. He raised his weapon and fired in reply, peppering her with shots that sparked at the armor, chipping away at it. Even as her body became too weak to stand, sending her to her knees, she fired the palm weapons on continuous beam mode.  
  
_Becca, you have to stop!_ Robert urged her, even as his will batted away a trio of cybertroopers turning to engage her from behind. His lightsaber flashed in the air and halfway severed the head of another. _Please!_  
  
She didn't stop. But the beams were growing visibly weaker. All present could feel her body shutting down. The cyborg was already more interested in firing at Gene and Colin, then swapping attention to Robert as he seemed to draw closer. Robert's lightsaber intercepted the shot and sent it back to crash into his attacker's shields.  
  
As they got closer, the cyborg switched fire toward them. He had surface thoughts they could detect and to some extent they could get themselves out of firing arcs in time, but they still took hits on their kinetic barriers, what plasma leaked through was absorbed harmlessly by their armor.  
  
The fire on them let up as Hawk charged forward. He took a few hits from a cybertrooper before skewering it, then got the attention of the commanding cyborg with beams from his palms. Its weapon barked and struck him, damaging the armor repeatedly with each shot.  
  
The beams from Becca went out. She collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent.  
  
Gene and Colin gestalted again without touching, not just their minds but their souls themselves merging into a single will. A rapid succession of attack probes from both of them assailed his mind until they found a pathway that wasn’t blocked off by cybernetic void: his motor cortex wasn’t enhanced, only the outgoing projections to the rest of his body. They seized control and shut his body down in tonic paralysis; he stiffened like a board.  
  
As the Human cyborg went rigid, Hawk grunted in effort and the energy from his hands intensified. The telepaths present, and Robert, could sense that it was _his_ life now draining away. The twin sapphire beams rippled over the yellow protective field until it visibly weakened, distorted and focused entirely on Hawk.  
  
That left it open on the other side. Robert dashed in, his legs moving with speed normal Humans couldn't match. His lightsaber buzzed in the air as he brought it up into a position parallel to the ground. There was no force shield to stop it as he brought the emerald blade down on the cyborg's arms and chest, severing the former and slashing deep into the latter. Fatally deep. The cyborg Human collapsed, its life fading away.  
  
The defeat of the leader didn't immediately turn the battle, but as there were no remaining officers, the assault lost all cohesion. Individual units started acting independently as their threat assessment programming demanded, costing the attack the coordination that had allowed the earlier success. The telepaths still behind the deflectors were keeping up their fire, sometimes managing hits, but certainly forcing the cyborg forces to keep moving and preventing them from coalescing on the five beings now outside of the defenses.  
  
Those that did notice them tried to attack. Robert felt them coming, deflecting those firing at him and mentally warning the others about the incoming fire. Gene, Colin, and Hawk all reacted, dodging where possible and the two Psi Cops returning fire.  
  
Hawk didn't return fire but instead dashed straight for Becca's prone form. Robert could see the armor around her losing shape, returning to the silvery fluid of before. But now the nanite material seemed to lose its fluidity. Much of it went rigid, in a brittle way, and then started to disintegrate. Only a portion of it returned to inside her body through her wrists and ankles. Robert sensed Hawk's worry at that, uncertain as he was about what he was seeing. But there was no denying that Becca was near death's door as she was.  
  
"Cover me!" Hawk urged, picking Becca up in a fireman's carry. He took off in a run, rushing through the remaining enemy, Robert and the others following and giving cover fire. The telepaths still behind the intact defenses provided what aid they could. One made to lower the deflector in front of her, but this proved unnecessary as Hawk jumped high enough to vault it, slipping just past the inward-curving top of the portable deflector. He rushed to the open bunker door.  
  
It took the others a longer period of time to get back, longer being measured by about ten seconds. Robert kept his weapon in a constant motion while throwing offensive strikes with his will whenever he could. This had the effect of keeping the flanks relatively clear, even if it required him to whirl like a dervish to cover three sides as needed. By the time they got back to the line the remaining defenders recreated the hole Gene and Colin had used to get out. Robert kept the incoming fire, ever-decreasing, from hitting any of them, until he himself backed up to the gap. By this point the defense line had contracted further, the outermost generators folded inward to cover the flanks Robert and Hawk had charged from.  
  
At a mental command from Gene, it started retracting further. In groups the telepaths withdrew into the bunker, carrying the portable generators with them, while Robert used a combination of lightsaber deflections and force waves to keep the attacking forces off-balance so they couldn't take advantage. Gene and Colin aided him, mostly with their guns as the remaining cyborgs were the mindless drone variety, making telepathic attacks more time-consuming than gunfire.  
  
Finally the last deflector was inside, the telepaths with it. Gene and Colin backed into the blast door next as the cybertroopers, by base programming more than anything, started to swarm the opening. They kept up their fire until Robert was completely in their way. At that point he forced his will into as strong a wave as he could throw, as broadly as possible from the opening. The invisible force threw the swarm back, knocking most down in the process. These vital seconds let him finish retreating through the blast door, which Gene promptly slammed shut.  
  
At that point, virtually every combatant collapsed, Robert included. It was only after he set his rear end on the floor by the entrance that he turned to notice Hikaru and the other medical telepaths fussing over Becca. Her skin was pale and her lips turning blue. Her life was virtually spent.  
  
"Massive organ failure," confirmed a short-statured black man named Dr. Hegebe, with a scanner. "But I don't see any accompanying damage."  
  
"You wouldn't." Fatigued as well, Hawk had his hands over Becca's right hand. After a moment Robert realized he wasn't just holding her hand. Two tendrils of silver material linked his wrists to her wrists. "She's lost most of her nanites. It's killing her."  
  
"Just what the hell was that?" asked Colin.  
  
"Combat mode," Hawk replied. "The combat nanites form a power armor. Really badass stuff."  
  
"And it kills you?" asked Robert. "That's why you've never used it before?"  
  
Hawk shook his head weakly. "We just learned about it. After Tira." He drew in a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "It's… the nanites are partly made of that metal stuff the Darglan use for power generation, okay?"  
  
"Naqia."  
  
"Yeah, that," he answered, his voice hoarse. He was visibly weakening too. "That stuff has got a lot of weird properties. One is that it soaks up energy like a sponge. The nanites, they… they store excess energy from our bodies. Makes our metabolism go sky-high. When used normally, we rarely burn through the reserves. But the power armor mode, the thrusters and the palm particle emitters and that crap… it sucks those reserves dry. So the nanites get power where they can."  
  
"Including your bio-electric field," Gene observed.  
  
Hawk nodded. His face was growing pale. Robert felt he was growing weaker. "And if they run out of juice, then their internal failsafe activates. The nanites dissolve so they can't be recovered. Problem is, we… we…"  
  
“Mr. Hawk,” Dr. Hegebe interjected. “Your heart rate is dangerously low. I don’t want to lose both of you.” He wasn’t using a heart rate monitor.  
  
The nod in reply was barely such. "...we need our nanites," he continued. "Our bodies… need them… not enough… our functions, they…"  
  
He stopped speaking. A moment later the silvery tendrils linking him to Becca dissipated and he pitched over onto her. Hegebe took him and rolled him onto his back.  
  
"They're still alive," Robert said. "And she's… stronger now."  
  
“They are alive, but… very weak. I don’t know if there is much we can do but… maybe if we provided energy to replenish the reserves?” Dr. Hegebe suggested.  
  
Robert nodded in agreement. "Run some IVs, I suppose. I've no idea how the nanites might reproduce themselves, especially without raw materials. And I'll see what I can do." He moved over, not quite standing up. His left arm was starting to hurt despite the medigel infusion, but it didn't keep him from holding his hands over them and trying to will energy into their faltering bodies. "If we keep them alive long enough, well… maybe I can get them help."  
  
“There is still the fundamental problem of energy reserves. They’re running low.” Dr. Hegebe said, rigging up a pair of IVs full of lactated ringer's solution and glucose. “Glucose will take time but…” He had an idea “We could rig batteries into a circuit. Give the nanites the energy they need.”  
  
"I'm not sure this will work, so give it a try," Robert said, closing his eyes and focusing on his efforts.  
  
Gene helpfully provided the power cells from another storage cupboard as well as the electrical connectors, including resistors to keep from electrocuting anyone, and started connecting everything. He clipped the positive terminal to Hawk’s right index finger, and then the negative terminal to his left. He repeated the process with Becca.  
  
“The juice is flowing.” Gene informed everyone, and waited.  
  
An errant thought touched every mind in the room. _Why aren't they trying to burn through yet?_  
  
Colin looked at the external cameras. There were more dropships landing, but instead of disgorging more troops, they were picking up survivors. Retreating. “I think… we might have won? Maybe?”  
  
_I hope so_ , Robert thought, even as he struggled to help keep the two fallen figures alive.  
  
  
  
  
There was a dearth of opposition on the way back to the bay. Lucy realized why as they approached and nearly ran into arriving troops. They hadn't expected her to show up, Antonia and the twins trailing, and she removed them rapidly by throwing them against the walls, not needing to apply her lightsaber.  
  
At the door to the landing bay there was another group firing in, and taking fire in turn. Lucy closed the distance and started disarming them with lightsaber strikes, in two cases literally. As the dismembered cried out along with the less-literally disarmed, she led the others into the cargo bay.  
  
"We have to hurry," said Antonia. "They're recalling their cyborgs to subdue us."  
  
"I wonder if that's good news or bad," Lucy muttered as the approached the infiltrator, her thought on what was below telling Antonia what she meant. Talara and some of the other telepaths were behind cover, using the landing gears, weapons drawn. Most of Talara's grenades were gone. "Let's go!" she shouted to Talara.  
  
"Everyone else is already in the ship," she said, running toward the rear first. Once there she triggered the cargo bay door to open, allowing the others, plus Antonia and the twins, to board with her.  
  
Lucy went for the port side airlock instead. At a touch of her omnitool the door opened. A jump augmented by her abilities got her high enough to land inside. As the outer airlock closed she heard the pulse guns start opening up. She opened the inner airlock and arrived in the main corridor just ahead of Talara, coming up from the armory. They both ran for the cockpit. "Dropships are landing in the bay," Talara confirmed.  
  
"Let 'em." Lucy wasted no time in triggering the thrusters. "Fire pulse cannons as we leave, I want to inflict as much damage as we can."  
  
As the ship lifted off the forward weapons opened up. Sapphire bolts ripped through the bulkhead ahead, and the sections inward, chewing away at the internals of the ship. As they backed out and began to turn their craft around. Only after they were out of the bay did the infiltrator stop firing, now pointing forward. Its final barrage had blown through several chunks of the cruiser's interior.  
  
Lucy waited as long as she had to before triggering the impulsors to full, bringing the ship into a twist and turn that allowed it to evade the fire that started to come in the moment it was clear of the bay. "Enemy ship is trying to lock on," Talara confirmed. "And their dropships are engaging."  
  
"I noticed." With her life force guiding her, Lucy kept the infiltrator moving, evading fire from both sources while hugging the cruiser. "We need to go for their main weapons. If they're abandoning the attack they might destroy the compound out of spite." While she spoke and acted the pulse guns, set to auto-target, continued to engage dropships whenever they could. One took a stream of pulses from two guns and blew apart in flame.  
  
There were steps from behind. Antonia slid into the third chair. "How can I help?" she asked.  
  
"Do you know how to operate the ship's weapons?" Talara asked.  
  
"No. But I did score very high in the Starfury gunner simulator games in the arcades," she replied enthusiastically.  
  
_I could use the help_. Lucy responded by letting her memories of the controls surface, allowing Antonia to sense them and operate the forward weapons. She didn't have any particular skill with them, but with Lucy's help she was at least competent. Their talents, in conjunction, allowed them to stay just within the cruiser's deflector while strafing the cruiser's weapons emplacements. One by one the largest plasma cannon projectors were taking debilitating damage, also further damaging the cruiser. Flashes of fire from the smaller, anti-fighter emplacements ripped through the space around them. Lucy put the infiltrator to the test with her rapid maneuvering.  
  
Despite the fact she was still very much in pain, Lucy felt Antonia's spirit soaring as they eliminated the cruiser's main weapons, heedless of the deadly fire around them. She seemed quite happy with the situation; better to be shot down out here than be a slave tortured for the kicks of a sadistic captor. While turning her head slightly to look at a monitor, Lucy could see Antonia through the corner of her eye. Antonia was still wearing her shredded clothing. But she had a pair of black gloves on now, the standard issue ones for the combat suits in the armory. "You were more worried about gloves than an intact shirt?" Lucy asked, incredulous.  
  
"I was tired of being naked, it was so indecent," Antonia answered.  
  
"But you're still somewhat…" Before Talara could finish that thought her attention was drawn to something. "I'm picking up an energy surge… It looks like they're charging their hyperdrives."  
  
Lucy nodded. "With most of their weapons disabled, they must have decided to cut and run." She evaded more fire and started to put more distance between them and the cruiser.  
  
"Their dropships are all returning to the bay now."  
  
_Good riddance_ , thought Lucy. "Once they're in hyperspace, relay the course to the _Shiloh_ under Robert's command code. Tell them to head that way and see if they find the ship coming out of hyperspace." She said this confident that Robert would approve.  
  
"Doing so now…"  
  
Lucy, meanwhile, relayed sensor information to her station. On the screen the compound was mostly dark, as night time had fallen on that part of the world. From what the systems were saying, several buildings were damaged or destroyed, and there were broken cyborgs scattered around the central structure. With comms open again Lucy triggered them. "Lucero to Dale. Status?"  
  
There were a few tense seconds before she heard Robert's voice, much to her relief. " _Dale here. We're secure._ "  
  
"So are we. And we've got fifty-three people who probably want some warm food and…" Lucy glanced back at Antonia. "...medical care."


	6. Chapter 6

The lighting of the compound was just coming back online when the infiltrator rippled into view. It landed in the compound commons, to the south of the bunker. Aside from the ruins of a dropship and the broken torpedo casings Robert had destroyed, the commons showed none of the sights of battle from before. The infiltrator's lights engaged, illuminating the area further. The cargo bay ramp opened with the ship pointed south, allowing those coming from the bunker to see the door open.  
  
Antonia led out the half-dozen Psi Corps captives, plus the twins who were staying with her. All three were wearing replicated jackets acquired from the infiltrator systems before they landed. Lucy followed, still in her armor. From the bunker Robert approached, his wounded arm now bandaged by Doctor Hegebe, joined by Colin, Gene, and some of the others.  
  
When the ramp opened and dozens of telepaths came into view, the space between minds was filled with a mix of happiness and deep familial concern. A moment later, informed by a telepathic telephone-game relay other telepaths emerged carrying clothes, blankets, and as much food as they could get out of the replicators on short notice.  
  
Colin stepped forward to greet everyone.  
  
“I am so happy you’re all alive and safe.” he said, speaking what everyone else was thinking, before turning to Lucy and Talara. “Thank you.”  
  
Lucy nodded in respect to him. "Thank you for keeping the valiant Sir Robert alive," she said, grinning slightly. "He always does have to play the hero." When Robert gave her a sardonic look, she responded, as always, by sticking out her tongue.  
  
"You got them all?" Robert asked her, if only for form's sake.  
  
"Every last one," she said, her voice fierce. "What they were doing to them up there…" Her mind went back to that bedroom. The red-eyed woman, the instruments of torture, and how they matched the wounds on Antonia, the teenagers flanking her, and some of the others.  
  
"I know," Robert said. "The important thing is they won't be hurt anymore." He focused on Antonia. "Ma'am, I'm Captain Robert Dale, a Paladin of the Alliance. I'm glad to see you're all okay."  
  
"Thank you, Captain," she replied. She reached out for the others and glyphed her relief to be among her adopted siblings again, along with her name and position as a final year medical student out of Genoa. _The things they did to us...  
  
No one will ever touch any of you again._ Gene said to every assembled telepath. _You’re as safe as we can make you, even if we have to evacuate this site._ He mentally introduced himself and Colin as well.   
  
_Hmm. Some of them haven’t come out yet…_ Colin remarked.  
  
_They should all get looked at._ Dr. Hegebe suggested _There’s no telling what kind of damage that kind of torture can do, and not just physically. Dr. Petrovich is going to be a busy man..._  
  
Lucy could sense what was on their minds, if not the actual exchange. "We'll show you to our medical supplies. Let me show you aboard," she said.  
  
“Thank you. Our own supplies are starting to run low after…” Dr. Hegebe looked at the bodies, neatly covered in black cloth “That.”  
  
Lucy nodded somberly and led Hegebe into the ship.  
  
  
  
  
A couple of hours passed and the cleanup was barely beginning. The medical telepaths were hard at work on the injured and the recovered Psi Corps captives were busy being comforted by their compatriots.  
  
Near Robert's infiltrator, benches allowed Antonia and the twins to sit. Robert, Colin, and Gene sat at the bench across from them. Zara was on Gene’s lap, refusing to leave either sight or physical contact.  
  
“What happened?” Colin asked “We got your note but…”  
  
Antonia responded by patting gloved hands on the twins' heads. They, too, now wore gloves, and like Antonia were clad in basic suits with Psi Corps pins. "Meet Giulio and Maria Toghatti," she said, her accent emphasizing the Italian names. Like Colin, she was speaking for Robert's benefit. "They're street orphans left homeless after their parents were killed by Nightwatch. They are both P8s by my estimation. But very untrained."  
  
"How did you meet them?" Robert asked.  
  
"While I am attending the University of Genoa School of Medicine, I volunteer my time to a free clinic," she answered. "The twins here often came by for help when they were hurt. Street children can lead a violent life. It was in the clinic that they had mindbursts, one after the other." She gave them a knowing look. "I showed them how to raise walls and called Education. But because of Clark and their parents… they were afraid of the Corps. They ran from the clinic. I pursued. They went to the spaceport."  
  
The children spoke no English, Robert sensed, but they sensed what Antonia was explaining and were open in sharing an elaboration. They knew of a human trafficker who offered discreet passage to the outer colonies. They wanted to run.  
  
"The trafficker had other plans. And when I arrived, trying to speak to them, his people overwhelmed me," Antonia revealed. "I put a few asleep, but it seemed like his whole crew were there…"  
  
“It’s not your fault.” Zara piped up. “If you’d waited, Psi Cops wouldn’t have made it in time to try.”  
  
“What she said.” Gene confirmed.   
  
"I know." Antonia sighed. "I… tried to shield them as best as I could. The slavers took an early interest in me. But they were a married couple and decided fraternal twins made a more interesting matched set."  
  
Colin, Gene, and Zara shuddered in sympathy and all three of them projected warmth and affection at Antonia, Gulio, and Maria.  
  
"I'm sorry for what you suffered," Robert said. "Whomever these red-eyed people are, the Alliance is going to find out, and we'll make it clear to them that they won't be tolerated."  
  
“Fuck that, we’re going to exterminate them.” Gene blurted out before he could stop himself. “I don’t normally condone wiping out whole groups of people but those… Aristos… they can’t be permitted to exist. One way or the other, we’ll find a way. They enslave trillions like that.”  
  
"When you write up your report, if you can share anything I can give to my superiors…" Robert's left hand lit up with blue light. He tapped the light. "Dale here."  
  
" _Sir, sensors are picking up a gravitational distortion_ ," Talara replied, still aboard the infiltrator. " _It looks like an IU jump point is forming…_ "  
  
Robert blinked. The odds of a blind jump arriving in Tau Atrea were infinitesimal. Unless… "Crap. Where's Hawk?!"  
  
"Right here."  
  
Hawk approached from the bunker, Becca beside him. Each seemed to be supporting the other and both looked terribly weak.  
  
" _The ship's through… sir! It's…_ "  
  
"The _Avenger_ ," Robert finished for her.  
  
A moment later there were several bursts of light around them. Dark-clad figures coalesced from said light, the results of Darglan transporter technology. Most were armed, with weapons lowered. Robert noticed one with ridges on the temple of his head and pointed, ridged ears, matching the description of the enhanced strength alien that had caused such havoc on the _Aurora_ over Tira.  
  
"We're secure," Hawk said to them. "No need for a fight, people."  
  
Two more pillars of light appeared ahead, coalescing into two figures. Thanks to the restored lights of the compound Robert immediately recognized one as Helen Fubuki, Hawk's second and, apparently, his girlfriend.  
  
The other he recognized too, but it took him a moment to let it sink in. Even as it did, he felt the other telepaths' sudden realization and a defensive reaction.  
  
"Hello, Captain Dale," said Lyta Alexander. "I didn't expect to see you here."  
  
Gene got Zara out of there as fast as he could, picking her up and getting her to the rest of the group that was already starting to form a defensive Gestalt. Colin joined them at a remove and took over the collective consciousness, putting himself between Lyta and everyone else.  
  
"That won't be necessary, Colin," Lyta said, before turning her attention to Hawk and Becca. "You two don't look so well."  
  
"What the hell happened?!" Helen shouted, her anger not much different from Hawk's. "This was supposed to be a simple recon!"  
  
"Slavers happened," Hawk said.  
  
Robert briefly wondered if it would be so easy for this to end peacefully. He could sense the Psi Corps telepaths ready for a fight. Hawk's people - including more telepaths, he thought - were itching for an excuse, some already raising weapons. He held his hands up. "We have a truce!" he said, mostly to them. "Weapons down!"  
  
"To hell with you, Alliance bastard," Helen snarled. "After Tira we've…"  
  
"Weapons down now!" Hawk shouted, as loudly as he could manage. Becca weakly broadcasted the same to the other telepaths. "Dale's not lying! We've got a truce!"  
  
Helen's nostrils flared, but she let her fists relax. Her posture eased.  
  
"I told you I could handle it," Lyta admonished her. She directed her attention back to Robert and Colin. "We received intel at Sirius Major that there was a top secret Psi Corps operation here. We assumed it was a black site prison or experiment center. I can see we're wrong."  
  
Colin couldn’t stop himself, he’d written yet another white paper on Lyta Alexander but she was right there and he needed to know, needed to hear it from her own lips.   
  
“Lyta, why?” he asked. “Your attack on Mars…It killed twenty thousand people, over a thousand telepaths. Psi Cops I can get but you slaughtered hundreds of innocent people and released disabled children into the tunnels, _butchered_ their teachers. It was a damned research hospital to treat telekinetic children! What… what happened to the kind and gentle girl who I used to look up to like a big sister?”  
  
For a moment Robert felt a surge of melancholy come from Lyta. It was pushed aside. "It's not your fault, Colin," she said. "It's really not. But the Corps… that's what happened. The Director happened, Bester happened, the Vorlons happened." As she spoke her voice grew in heat and intensity. "Sheridan happened, and then… and then I watched Bester and his Bloodhounds hunt down innocent telepaths who just wanted _to live in peace_. The Corps… you want it to be ours. You want to blame all of the camps and the bad things on the mundanes. But in the end, even if they started it, we've let it define us. They made our prison, and instead of wanting to escape and start something new, all the Corps wants to do is drag us back right back into the crab bucket."  
  
“I’m sorry that happened Lyta. I truly am. You deserve better than all of that.” He said those words and he meant them, from the terrified depths of his soul as he stared down the telepathic demigod who used to be one of the nicest people he knew. “But we can’t change the past, and we can’t fix our problems as a people by killing each other and setting the only home we have on fire. What we can do is build a better future, together, on our own terms. The only way to do that is to free the Corps from EarthGov, and by God Lyta I think we can win if we play our cards right.” He believed that too. Maybe it was pure optimism or a desperate need for hope, but he did. “All you’ll ever accomplish is make that harder or even impossible; do you honestly think that if you win that the Mundanes will ever let telepaths have any self-determination ever again?”  
  
Lyta gave him an intent look. "Oh, Colin. Sweet Colin. I wish I could believe what you're saying. That your revolution will bring a better world for telepaths. But we both know it's going to be Bester and his kind who rule the Corps when this ends. And I'm not going to allow that."  
  
“Appearances for mundanes aside Lyta, Metapol answers to me, Gene, and Marcel Szewczyk. The entire self-government of the Psi Corps is with us. That was over Bester’s objections and I fully expect him to try something at some point, but we know where and who his assets are. Come back to us Lyta. We still love you, I still love you. There is still room for forgiveness, reconciliation. There always is.”  
  
"I'm aware of how that usually goes, Colin. Quite a few of us in the Underground are," she replied. And yet, while it was a rejection, Robert sensed that there was thought in her. She seemed genuinely surprised at hearing of Colin's rank. Robert had to admit he was.  
  
After several seconds of silence, and a glance toward Hawk, Lyta spoke up. "What do you intend to do about the camps?" she asked. "Or any telepath who wants to go their own way?"  
  
“If the choice is between dosing people on sleepers or providing security ourselves, I choose the third option: divert as many people away from them as we can, and when the time is right, evacuate every telepath before nuking the site from orbit. As for those who want to leave…” Confronted with the choice, Colin had to search through his soul. He’d been ignoring that question but he couldn’t anymore. Not with Lyta right there asking him. On the one hand, he wasn’t ever comfortable using coercion and he’d never really hunted people who committed no other crime. On the other hand, it was wrong to abandon your family the way rogues did, even if he could understand why they did it. He came down on the side of just being a good person and leaving the rest for history. “Sometimes, when you love someone you have to let them go. So long as it’s an informed choice. My only concern is their safety and the safety of those still in the Corps. I’m willing to work out a solution.”  
  
From behind them Lucy was stepping out of the infiltrator. She looked to Robert and he looked back, his posture telling her everything was still stable. This let him return his attention to Lyta, who seemed thoughtful. He could sense the conflicting feelings inside of her. On the one hand, her hatred of Bester and the Psi Corps as he represented it was palpable, overpowering. But on the other… she had a genuine warmth for Colin, tinged with melancholy. As if he represented a simpler, sweeter time for her.  
  
She glanced back toward Hawk. "We're partners now," she said. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think the camps have to go," Hawk said. "People should be free. But this guy… yeah, it seems legit to me. He certainly fights like hell for his people."  
  
She answered him with a nod. "And your newest agent?"  
  
"I believe in Doctor Meier," Becca said simply.  
  
"I thought so." Lyta looked back to Colin and Robert and gave a nod. "You might lead Metapol for now, but I know Bester. He has his ways to get what he wants, and what he wants is domination and control. So I'll give you a year, Colin, to prove the Corps can change. We'll probably still go after the camps because I'm not leaving telepaths to those, but we'll be gentle with your people. If they let us." She glanced toward Hawk, who nodded in reply, before returning to look at Colin. "I've been let down by those I thought were good men before, Colin. Don't let history repeat itself."  
  
“I’ll instruct them to let you. And I’ll do my best not to.” Colin replied, he knew she was talking about Sheridan, and his hatred for the man was thick enough one could cut it with a knife.  
  
"Fine. Then we'll call off any further operations."  
  
"Can you?" Robert asked. "With an organization like yours…"  
  
"She can, Alliance stooge," Helen retorted. "And while we're at it, why doesn't your high and mighty Alliance do something about the bastards in EarthDome instead of making kissy-face with them?"  
  
Robert furrowed his brow at that. He had no chance to reply before Lyta said, "If anything happens, it's not us, and I'll deal with any problems personally." She gave Colin a final look. "And congratulations, Colin. It was about time you found room for something other than duty in your life."  
  
“There always was, I just had to find the right people....” Colin replied.  
  
"Let's get you back," Helen said to Hawk and Becca, clearly impatient with the situation.  
  
"Hawk, remember what I said," Robert said, urgency in his voice. "There are better ways to do this. Stop hurting yourselves."  
  
Hawk gave him a measured look. "I've got work to do, Dale." There was something like a hollowness in his voice. "And a lot of injustice to avenge. I'll do what I have to."  
  
"Dammit, think of your friends! Even if you're determined to destroy yourself…!"  
  
Hawk gave him a quiet look, but said nothing else.  
  
“Becca,” Max, bandaged and on his feet through sheer force of will, stepped out of the Gestalt “We owe you our lives, and… if you keep going down the path you are there’s a good chance you’ll lose yours. If it ever gets to be too much, you’ll always have a home to come to, for as long as we can keep it standing.”  
  
In reply Becca gave him a look that betrayed the ache inside of her. But more powerful than that ache was the guilt. Again telepaths had died, again she'd survived. It was evident to all that she was not going to stay.  
  
Without a further word, Lyta brought her arm up. An amber-toned omnitool snapped into view around her forearm. With a tap of a key, she vanished in a burst of white light. Helen repeated the action. One by one the crew of the _Avenger_ disappeared in similar bursts. The broken remnant of Hawk's shuttle joined them.  
  
Becca and Hawk were the last ones to go. In the final second before she disappeared, Becca's mind opened and broadcast a simple message to the others. Robert thought he heard it, but it sounded like it was in Hebrew, and he didn't nearly know enough of it to understand.  
  
What he did understand were the four characters Becca planted in his mind, in searing, pleading clarity.  
  
And then they were gone.  
  
With the threat past and Becca gone, Colin mentally collapsed. The stress of losing people, almost losing _everyone_ , Becca leaving, and then his conversation with Lyta who in some other lifetime had been like a big sister to him...it was too much and he sank to the ground in tears.  
  
Gene couldn’t leave his husband crying there and Zara couldn’t stand to watch him in pain like that. Zara clambered up on his shoulders and hugged him around the neck, while Gene got down on his knees in front of Colin, wrapped his arms around them both, and put their foreheads together.   
  
“It’s okay babe. We’re still alive, shit, Lyta might even leave us alone… I don’t know how you pulled that off, but you did it.”  
  
“Yeah Dad, Dad is right. We made it and you did the best you could. That’s what matters.”  
  
Robert looked down at them and nodded, smiling slightly. "From the moment I met her, I didn't think anything could deflect her anger at Psi Corps like that. You should be proud."  
  
Gene looked up “He is but… “ Gene looked around pointedly “It’s never really enough, is it? Hell, I’ll break later.” Even then, Robert could feel Colin’s mind in Gene’s acting like a brace keeping his husband from having the same breakdown.  
  
“This is normal.” Zara said “Only one of them at once.”  
  
Robert nodded in understanding, in more ways than one. At the moment, he personally wanted to go to his quarters on the infiltrator and collapse.  
  
Which, ultimately, he would get to do.  
  
  
  
  
Seconds after they all stepped off of the transporter pad on the _Avenger_ , Helen whirled about and confronted Lyta. "What the hell was that?!" she demanded. "All of the trouble we've gone to and you're going to call off the campaign just because some guy you knew as a kid says so?!"  
  
Lyta gave Helen a look that spoke mostly of contempt. "You don't really have a clue what's going on here, do you Helen? All you care about is getting someone to stab."  
  
"What I care about is putting down these fascist pigs!"  
  
"Communist, apparently," Hawk corrected weakly. He and Becca continued to balance each other.  
  
"Syndicalist," Becca corrected in turn. "Neither. They're a big _kibbutz_." She leveled a look at Helen. "And what they have is better than why my people had on my world."  
  
"Bullcrap," Helen growled. "Did the failsafes actually work? Maybe they pulled the whammy on your mind…"  
  
"They didn't," Lyta said. "I'd know."  
  
"The question is if you'd care."  
  
The glare Lyta gave her was withering. "Why do you think I got involved in fighting the Corps in the first place, Helen?" Lyta asked coldly. "Yes, I damn well care, and that's why I'm giving Colin his year."  
  
"A year for them to recover and be even more ready for us!"  
  
"As usual, you're not thinking strategically," Lyta scolded her. "There are three ways I see this playing out." She raised her hand and three fingers, pulling one back as she listed off the outcomes in mind. "One, Colin's revolution fails, and Psi Corps is dissolved by Earth. We'll need to be ready if that happens because we'll be the only thing between telepaths and a genocide. Two, Colin's revolution succeeds, Bester takes over. The Underground will swell as a result, Earth will resist, and Sheridan will be more than happy to help bring Bester down. Then we make our move. And then the least-likely outcome, Colin wins and keeps Bester out. I don't put a lot of stock into that, but if it does happen then all we have to do is worry about finding Bester." Lyta leaned in to match glare for glare. "And in all three cases, more time means more time for us to train recruits. Gather allies and resources. We'll be even stronger in a year's time."  
  
"Funny this is your plan now," Helen said. "I'd almost think you let that Psi Cop worm his way into _your_ brain."  
  
"Helen, dammit, _please_." Hawk gave her a pleading look. "There's more to this situation than we thought, alright? And with these slaver bastards around, the last thing we need is to make things easier for them."  
  
Helen looked at him and some of her frustration seemed to fade, replaced by concern. "Let's get to the infirmary," she said.  
  
"Let's get home," Hawk corrected. "We both need nanites. And we have to consider our next step."  
  
"Agreed," said Lyta, an angry look on her face. "Someone is making slaves of telepaths. Let's make that our priority for now."  
  
"These people are tough too. Becca and I only got an edge by going combat mode."  
  
Helen's expression showed deep concern for the first time. "You're… you _what_?"  
  
"Yeah. Why else do you think we're so wasted?"  
  
"Then… we'll need a fresh round of infusions," Helen asserted. "To learn more about making it work."  
  
"No, none of that," Hawk said. "New rules. Infusions every six months."  
  
That made Helen glower again. "What?! Come on, don't tell me you bought that brain damage malarky!" The look on Hawk's face told her that yes, he did indeed, and that he wasn't going to be questioned. Helen's impatience was palpable. "It's going to set back all of our timetables! All of the replacements for the people we lost at Tira!"  
  
"I know. We'll make do with on-the-job training."  
  
"It's the right thing," Becca agreed. "It's healthier for all of us."  
  
Helen gave her a dark look. "No one asked you, newbie. We were doing just fine before you showed up." With that she turned and stomped off.  
  
"I need to lay down," Hawk said, rubbing at his head. Another headache was already forming.  
  
After he left, Becca and Lyta remained alone. _Thank you_ , Becca mindcast to her. _For not forcing us to fight.  
  
Don't thank me yet, Ms. bat Gurion_, Lyta cast back. _One way or another, there's going to be fighting._ Her expression softened. _Poor Colin. He really thinks he can make things better with the Corps. He doesn't understand that you can't fix a broken house when it's on a bad foundation._ With that parting remark, Lyta walked off.  
  
For her part, Becca returned to her quarters on Deck 6. They were one of the larger quarters available, a boon for being a nanite-augmented agent. It was an external apartment too, so she was able to look out a transteel window at Tau Atrea 3 below. She put her hand against the window while enjoying the view. It was such a beautiful world. It would be so nice to live there. To have a community again. To be at peace.  
  
But she didn't deserve it. Not that kind of peace. Maybe her world would enjoy it, if Captain Dale followed through on what she sent to him.  
  
Distortions appeared, telling her the ship was going to warp. Right as the planet disappeared she whispered aloud the Hebrew words she'd cast at the others before beaming away.  
  
" _Goodbye, brothers and sisters_."  
  
  
  
  
 _Personal Log: Robert Dale; 26 September 2643 AST. The Tau Atrea settlement has been fully secured. A Psi Corps vessel provided the promised reinforcements and the necessary defenses to ensure that another raid like yesterday's can never happen again. They also transported several hundred more civilians who are joining in the cleanup effort.  
  
The experience of the last 24 hours has been eye-opening. It is clear that the Alliance will need to carefully consider its policies in E5B1 on the issue of telepaths. We'll also need to step up patrols and expand our sensor nets to deal with these 'Aristos' and other slave traders. Dr. Meier has been gracious enough to offer me a copy of his report on what he and the others gleaned from the slaver's mind.  
  
I still wonder if my truce with Hawk was the right choice. I have to hope he might listen to us this time. That he is not directly responsible for the bombing of Earth C1P2 does not change much in the long run. He is still legally a war criminal for failing to appropriately punish the man responsible, and his guilt for the attack only seems to further fuel this crusade he is on. And as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved by good intentions.  
  
We will be departing today to rendezvous with the _Aurora. _But there are a couple of matters to settle before we depart._  
  
  
  
  
The morning daylight shined down upon the teams of telepaths clearing away rubble from the area most affected by the fight. The bodies of the destroyed cyborgs were already gone, taken outside the compound and buried in a common grave. Other groups of telepaths were at work with daily chores or giving orientation to the newly-arriving settlers. Another shuttle from the _Sinbad_ , a Psi Corps transport, was already descending to land at the runway at the northwest corner of the compound.  
  
Robert's infiltrator remained in the common, its dark gray hull reflecting sunlight from Tau Atrea. Zara and many of the children were milling around it, gaping in admiration and interest at the sleek, bird-like vessel. Near the back of the ship, a small plastic table had been set up. A number of parts were on it, all from the anti-grav orb toy the children had played with the day before. It was left behind during the evacuation to the bunker and damaged in the fighting.  
  
Robert observed them while standing near the table. He was no longer in armor. He kept the brown robes, battle-damage still showing on them, and wore a plain blue shirt and navy blue trousers with it. After completing a circuit around the ship Zara approached.  
  
“Hi!” Zara said as cheerfully as she could. They were still arranging funerals for those who didn’t make it, and while she could compartmentalize with the best of them, she was still in mourning.  
  
"Good morning," he replied. While she was doing well in holding it, he sensed her grief for the telepaths killed in the battle.   
  
“I’ve been thinking. Shocking, I know.” She gave the ship a pensive look. “Your family history, Jayhawkers in ‘Bleeding Kansas’. I don’t know much American history but I know they fought slavers. You fight slavers, that ship freed over fifty. Seems like a good name to me.”  
  
The recommendation brought a gentle smile to Robert's face. It was a good point. "Two of five brothers died fighting the border ruffians, the proslavery men from Missouri," he revealed. "My ancestor was the eldest surviving brother. He marched through Georgia with Sherman's army." He thought back to childhood visits to the county historical center and pictures of that first generation of Dales in Kansas. Over the decades the Dale family had often given family items and photos to the center, given how long they'd dwelled in the region. "I suppose it _is_ a good name."  
  
“Ah, now there’s a song Dad” meaning Gene “made sure I knew. _So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea. While we were marching through Georgia!_ ” she giggled. It was so anachronistic but yet so perfect. “Glad I could help!”  
  
When Lucy emerged from the armory it drew the attention of the kids. Like Robert she was out of armor now, wearing her blue robes over a Gersallian-style cool weather tunic of brown color and dark black trousers. She held a piece in her hand. By the time she arrived at the table the children were gathering around her. "So you can fix it?!" one of the children asked. Her concern was understandable; they were unlikely to find replacement parts for the device out here.  
  
"Give me a moment…" She used a soldering iron to put the new part in its place. When she was done she set the tool down and held up a hand. The children gaped in wonder as each piece started levitating in the air. They moved together, assembling steadily, as if the parts could assemble themselves without Human involvement. The final bits formed together, creating the gray orb of before, bright lights on the exterior. Lucy levitated the orb toward a wide-eyed Maina, who plucked it from mid-air. "There, give it a try."  
  
He pressed a bright blue button. The orb lifted from his hand. " _Greetings, everyone! Are you ready for another game of Find The Orb?_ "  
  
"Yes!" most of the children chorused.  
  
" _Your last time was twenty-six minutes twenty seconds! Work together and see if you can improve! Remember, you are each the keeper of your brothers and sisters._ " With that final line the orb zipped away. Maina and the other children started to give chase, but Husn remained behind with a curious look on her face.  
  
Robert grinned at Lucy. "Show off."  
  
Lucy replied with a playful grin. A thoughtful look followed. "When I bought one of those to convert into a training device, the rules called it 'Orb Hunter'. And it didn't say anything about working together. The kid who catches it the most in ten tries wins."  
  
“We don’t work that way.” Husn explained. “We compete, sure, everyone likes to win. But we also work together and make sure that competition _never_ harms. Losing a game isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to teach.”  
  
"Huh." Lucy gave Robert a meaningful look. "I might have enjoyed kickball in elementary school if we'd had that mentality."  
  
He responded with a chuckle. "I still remember when you kicked the ball into Peter Smith's face. It seemed too random to be unintentional. I guess we know better now, don't we?"  
  
To that she laughed. "Maybe so." She turned her attention to Husn. While the girl's telepathy was easy to sense, there was more to it with her.  
  
Robert nodded.  
  
“So… what was that I felt before? Do I have powers like yours?” She asked Robert directly. She was used to honest questions getting honest answers from adults, except when they _couldn’t_ answer.  
  
Robert nodded. He gave his reply mentally. _I felt it. You do have what is called a connected_ swevyra. _It'll be up to you to decide if you want to explore it or not. But you might as well enjoy your childhood first, Husn_. _This power can be an even greater burden than telepathy. It can be spiritually corrupting if used wrong._ Robert briefly gave her impressions from his fight with the SS in the foyer of the _Führerhaus_ and of the earlier battle with _Mastrash_ Goras as he became corrupted with darkness. How negative emotions like fear, anger, and hatred could corrupt one's life force. He remembered the cold energy of that darkness, powerful and intoxicating, but spiritually corrosive. To fall to it would mean personal destruction.  
  
Husn thought about it and recoiled from those negative emotions. _I don’t want to end up like that. But I’m not going to refuse a gift from Allah. That would be wrong._ She looked over toward the two Psi Cops, busily working on coordinating repairs and cleanup, and Robert felt that she was outright projecting her thoughts at both of them to make sure they knew. It got both of their attention, and after a brief conference between both of them that Robert couldn’t actually pick up, just detect from body language, Colin replied.  
  
_This is something we’ll have to discuss I think… As far as I know Husn, you’re the first one in the Corps to have these abilities._ He didn’t leave Zara out either, but she knew enough to know it was beyond her pay grade.  
  
_I can try and see if anyone is willing to come here and show her the ropes. I don't think having her leave to receive training on Gersal or elsewhere will be good for Husn._ Robert gave her an understanding look.  
  
_Yeah, I don’t want to leave. Everyone I love is here and the younger ones need me._ Husn replied.  
  
"There are some teachers in the Order of Swenya, and some of the Dorei orders, who travel looking for the sensitive," Lucy said aloud, understanding what was being discussed. "And there's always other sources. If Kasszas is being nomadic again, he might be interested. Assuming he believes that is where he is being called, I mean." For the benefit of the others, Lucy drew memories of Kasszas S'szrishin to the surface of her thoughts, showing them a blind Zigonian with a walking stick who once helped Julia, Angel, and Meridina rescue Jarod. There were, by her knowledge, no reptilian species like Zigonians known in this universe at present.  
  
“Woah, that’s something you don’t see every day!” Zara remarked. “And you’re right, we don’t have any reptiloids so far in this universe. At least not like that. Some people are scaly but not so… Saurian.”  
  
Husn thought about things, she thought about them hard. She didn’t think adopting the beliefs of a group of people from another universe would work. She had her own. She had her own God, her own values. She didn’t want to be in a position where she’d have to pay lip-service to something she didn’t believe in or get trapped by rules she had no hand in making that were thousands of years old.  
  
They both sensed those thoughts. "That wouldn't necessarily happen, Husn," Robert said gently. "Although I understand why you're concerned. The important thing is that if you want to use these abilities, you learn about them. In time, maybe you'll figure out your own way to view them."  
  
Husn nodded. Both Psi Cops took a mental step back to watch. “That makes sense. And it might not just be me, I won’t be the only one. I’m just the first. I might be the person other telepaths, or even mundanes, come to. So I have to do a good job.”  
  
"You've got time," Lucy assured her. "We'll see what we can do. In the meantime, enjoy being a kid."  
  
“Oh that’s going to happen either way! I mean, come on! Moving things with my _mind_? Zara won’t be the only one inventing new games!”  
  
Lucy gave Robert a slightly worried look. He responded with a small smile and a shake of the head. _She'll be better than you think_. _The others will make sure she doesn't give in to any dark feelings.  
  
Still, we'd better find someone to train her, just to be on the safe side. Someone flexible_.  
  
Colin approached, not wanting to interrupt, he waited until they were done before saying anything. “So… Robert, there are about twenty telepaths who haven’t left your ship. I meant what I said to Lyta, I won’t go in and round them up. On the other hand, a lot of them have been propagandized their entire lives to hate and fear their own people. With your permission, I’d like to go in and see if I can convince any of them to stay. You’re welcome to observe if you want.”  
  
Robert replied immediately with a nod. "Follow me then."  
  
  
  
  
Twenty telepaths sat on the floor and stairs of the armory, the only section of Robert's ship big enough for all of them. Sleeping bags and blankets were still laid out from where they'd slept. They represented the holdouts, unwilling to join the Corps like the other twenty or so that Antonia and the others had convinced before and after their rescue. At least one group was a cohesive nuclear family of unregistered telepaths from somewhere in Latin America - father, mother, and three children ages ten to three - and there was a group of adolescents and teenagers, cousins and siblings, of North American background. There was no disguising the fear most of them felt at the sight of Colin, but Lucy's assurances that their wishes would be respected quieted most.  
  
“Hello. My name is Dr. Colin Meier, and it’s… it’s wonderful to see you still alive. But I’d like to first apologize from the bottom of my heart, for everything you’ve been through. You all deserve better and in so many ways we’ve failed you.”  
  
This drew attention, wary attention, from the assembled. Distrust was painfully evident in most, but Robert sensed a few were considering Colin's sincerity. They might not dismiss him out of hand as he'd considered likely.  
  
Colin dropped his defenses, if they wanted his mind was open to them to examine his surface thoughts and assess his sincerity for themselves. “Psi Cops have two jobs. The first is to protect telepaths, but the other job is to enforce the mundane’s laws. Those two are in conflict, and for the last sixty years, it’s broken many of us. Between that and the Sleepers, the camps, you have no reason to trust me. I understand that. What I can say is this. We’re done. We’re resolving the conflict by telling the mundanes to get bent. I won’t lie to you, that’s going to lead to a war, and I understand if you want no part of that.”  
  
There was continued silence from the others, but Colin felt several feeling around at the edges of his mind, those trained enough to do so. Gauging his intent. There was curiosity in several of those minds.  
  
“If we win, we can decide what it is we want, as a people, for the first time in our history; but the only guarantee for the future I can make for you is that we’re going to fight for our and your dignity as sapient beings. We will not abandon you, nor will we abandon our children being born inside the Earth Alliance and under its laws. Those of you who want to, go outside, talk to people. See what the Psi Corps really is. Then make your decision. You won’t be forced, and after you leave, no Psi Cops will hunt you. From now on, we’re only going to look for people to make sure they’re safe.” With that, Colin turned around and walked out, letting them talk among themselves and make up their own minds.  
  
The family didn't move. Neither did a few of the others. Their minds were made up. The one coherent group of adolescent and teenage kids, six in all, did go, as did several more, taking up Colin's offer to investigate..  
  
While Robert and Lucy remained, seeing to the ship and making sure everything was ready, business continued in the compound. As the hours passed some of the others returned. Robert could sense their thoughts; this wasn't for them. For one reason or another they didn't feel comfortable with the people here.  
  
When Lucy returned from checking on all of the vital systems, she counted the returnees. Eleven in all, including the teenagers from the group of kids. Another adult, an African woman, returned through the open cargo bay door a moment later. Robert sensed that she'd made up her mind after some soul-searching; like the others, this wasn't for her, although she now lacked the distrust that had been evident before. She leveled a look at Robert and said, "I am the last. The others are staying."  
  
"Why?" asked the mother in the family, her English thickly accented. "Why would they give up their freedom after all of this?!"  
  
"Some believe the Corps isn't what it seemed before," replied the woman. "A couple believe in the revolution Dr. Meier spoke of more than the Corps, and they want to serve in it."  
  
"Understandable reasons," Robert noted. Sensing Colin was approaching, he walked up to the cargo ramp door.  
  
“Eight. Better than I expected, not as good as I’d hoped but… it’s understandable.” Colin remarked to Robert. It made him sad, that much was evident on his face, but sometimes things just didn’t work out the way one hoped, and he knew that the Psi Corps would be strange to an outsider. Culture shock alone would keep some people from joining. It was common enough with Laters, having difficulty adjusting.  
  
"The Vulcans believe in the principle of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations," Robert said. "One of the things about diversity is that you're always going to find people who don't fit in to what you expect. It's why choice is so important, and why Earth's laws on telepaths must be overthrown."  
  
“One of many many reasons. I think the list is actually longer than Martin Luther’s little church flier.”  
  
Robert grinned at that. "It would be one way to kick everything off. Pin the list to EarthGov's door."  
  
“Actually… we’re almost literally going to do that. A broadcast and public data-dump but close enough.” Colin replied with a wry grin before he got serious. “Take care of them. They’re still my family. Wherever they go, they deserve to be safe and happy.”  
  
"Of course," Robert said. As he spoke he thought of the past of his family. Of being a young teen, hurt by his older cousin's departure from the family farm. From Kansas, off to a distant place. That hurt was much the same as Colin was feeling, tinged as it had been with the painful realization that this was the best for the departed. A chance for them to be safe and happy. _There wasn't much love in the county for Beth after she was outed, after all. Moving to Portland gave her a chance to be herself._ With that in mind Robert offered his hand to Colin.  
  
Colin took the offered hand and shook it. _Believe it or not, I was in the closet too, for almost twenty years. For reasons that are really stupid now that I look back on them._   
  
Robert nodded in agreement. _I think I understand. And don't worry about your family, we'll take care of them._ Aloud he said, "Well, I should be going. I need to report back. But just to set your mind at ease, I've already had Tau Atrea added to our border patrol routes. You've been marked as a telepath refugee camp due to the attacks in Earthspace. Our ships will monitor the area more closely than before. With your new defenses, you should be able to hold out more than long enough for an Alliance starship to respond to any distress call."  
  
Colin breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. When Gene said we were going to have to leave and join our ground forces, he meant to command our ground forces. It’s good to know our people are safe and in good hands.”  
  
Robert nodded. "I know you're putting a lot into this plan of yours, but it won't hurt if you've got someone at your back," he said. "There's so much the Multiverse doesn't understand about the Corps. For the most part, you're seen as a government agency tasked with controlling and hunting telepaths. This…" He waved an arm at the compound. "...this community, nobody really knows about it. Have you given any thought about trying to change that? Because I have an idea."  
  
“Well getting on ISN isn’t really an option, but I have considered it. You should have _seen_ the look on the Director’s face when Erika Flores argued a case in your court. We have considered similarly ‘bending’ the rules, but there hasn’t been a good opportunity.”  
  
"There's one coming up," Robert replied. "With the end of the Reich War, my cousin's called a summit of current and former repressed peoples to meet on New Liberty, to arrange common diplomatic and economic action and promote endangered nations' needs to the rest of the Multiverse. Along with representatives from these peoples, there's going to be representatives from several major interstellar governments, including the Alliance and the United Federation of Planets, attending the summit. Maybe you should come too."  
  
Colin froze for a moment, considering that. Then he started to giggle. “EarthGov would have kittens! As in live birth, actual kittens! Live, on ISN! Oh God it would be hilarious…” but he sobered after a moment. “Going openly as representatives of the Psi Corps might cause them to kick things off a bit early.” He paused, and tried to think of a way to play Solomon and cut the baby in half without the infanticide.  
  
Robert recognized the dilemma. He took a moment to think about it. An insight came to him. "I may have a way," he said. "And it plays right into the telepath-fearing attitudes that you're worried about."  
  
“Oh I bet I’m going to like this…”  
  
"It's going to depend on Max, actually," Robert confided. "He practices from what I see. How does his rabbi feel about the Corps?"  
  
“He officiated at my wedding and gave us access to his synagogue’s community center for plays and special events.” Colin replied, definitely liking where this was going.  
  
"Do you think he'd be interested in meeting with other universes' Jews to discuss theological matters and how their histories have influenced differences in rites and laws?"  
  
“Given how excited he was when interuniversal contact was made, considering his absolute love of Maimonides? I think Isaac would be interested.”  
  
Robert grinned at that. "I think Rabbi Soloveitchik will be glad to meet him then. The Rabbinical Council on New Liberty's been putting a lot of effort into examining interuniversal Judaism. They're always happy to invite rabbis and scholars from other universes for meetings."  
  
“Excellent. So, where does Max fit into this delightfully subversive scheme you have running through your head?” He could look into Robert’s head for it, but he didn’t. He thought he could see where it was going, but sometimes it was nice to hear someone say it.  
  
"Well, you know how dangerous it is for people to visit to the Alliance," Robert remarked. "Where telepaths go around unmarked and unregistered, and law doesn't recognize surface thoughts as inviolable privacy. Clearly your rabbi friend will need a properly trained member of the Psi Corps along to protect his thoughts from intrusion. Of course, the risk of that Psi Corps member _defecting_ to the Alliance, well… I was born at the end of the 20th Century on my Earth, Colin, so as a kid I watched a lot of old shows about desperate Eastern Europeans trying to defect from the Soviet Bloc, and there was always some kind of secret police agent assigned to watch them and make sure they didn't flee. Clearly Earth will understand if a Psi Cop is sent to ensure this telepath doesn't take the chance to defect to the Alliance."  
  
“Clearly…” Colin replied, snickering. “And neither of those telepaths would ever dream of violating the Psi Corps Charter inside a closed meeting or private conversation with potentially high-level foreign officials while there by discussing the forbidden subject of politics. Obviously, the loyal Psi Cop would prevent that. Now where o’ where could we find such an upstanding member of MetaPol, with an unassailable track-record, I wonder?”  
  
"A man of your reputation, Dr. Meier, might work perfectly well," Robert observed. "Hypothetically speaking, of course. As an operative of the Allied Systems, it would be unconscionable for me to interfere in the affairs of Earth."  
  
“Oh, I would never dream of it. Nor would I ever ask any of my official superiors to officially order me to attend such an event. Such a thing would be a perfidious subornation of the lawful authority of the Earth Alliance!” Colin feigned mortification, clutching the wedding band on a chain around his neck like it was a string of pearls.  
  
"I'm glad we understand each other on that matter, then," Robert said, smiling.  
  
“Indeed we do, Rabbi Isaac Liebgott of the Temple Beth Zion on Omega VII will absolutely be needing a telepath bodyguard if he is to venture beyond the pale of settlement into Alliance Space.”  
  
"I feel sorry for any rogue telepaths in the Alliance that think they can make him another victim under our inadequate laws," Robert proclaimed melodramatically.  
  
  
  
  
They departed to well-wishes and heartfelt goodbyes. Zara sat on Gene's shoulders while the other children were in a group with their educator Mrs. Saunders. Max, Hegebe, Antonia, and many others joined them as the infiltrator lifted off.  
  
Once they were in orbit, Robert checked the sensors. "No ships nearby. Engaging cloaking device."  
  
"The _Aurora_ 's still at B5," noted Lucy. "Want me to set a course?"  
  
"Yes. Parabolic, around Earth space. Engage when ready."  
  
"Doing so now." After she completed the work and they were at warp speed, Lucy said, "You know, Meridina and Dr. Tusana are going to spend hours rooting through our brains to make sure the Corps didn't mind-whammy us."  
  
"Yep," he said. "I already had that happen back on Solaris."  
  
"Just so you know. So, Dr. Meier and Mr. Hendriks. I don't often see two people that intertwined. With their presence in the Flow of Life, I mean."  
  
"I've never seen it before. Not to that extent," Robert noted. "Like their souls are completely bonded."  
  
"I've seen it before," Lucy said. "Never thought I'd see another example of it."  
  
Robert blinked and looked toward her. "Really? Where did you see it before?"  
  
Despite the fact she was piloting the ship, Lucy turned her chair to face him. A small grin was on her face. "You and Julia," she replied.  
  
Robert blinked at that. He didn't know how to react to her saying so. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah, really," said Lucy. "Not the same way, I mean… but whatever the two of you have, it's the kind of closeness most of us can envy. It's very special."  
  
He had nothing to say about that. But he did feel the truth of what she said. And it made so much sense to him. "It is," he agreed.  
  
Lucy nodded wordlessly and returned her attention to the piloting controls.  
  
  
  
  
Two days passed and they were nearing the edge of Earth territory when Talara identified the _Aurora_ on long range sensors. After getting their attention and informing them of their approach, it took a few hours to make the rendezvous. They landed at the rear of the _Aurora_ in the secondary shuttle bay. Lucy performed the landing with customary grace, allowing Robert to lead the twelve telepaths still aboard out.  
  
Leo, Dr. Walker, and medical teams were waiting to process the telepaths. Julia and Meridina were present as well and their relief filled him. Unable to stop herself, Julia rushed up to him and gave him a tight hug. He winced a little at the intensity of it, even if it warmed his heart. "Woh, watch the ribs," he pleaded.  
  
As soon as the hug finished Julia asked, "What is this? What happened to a simple recon mission?"  
  
Robert smiled at her. Given what he'd pledged before leaving, he felt sheepish as he admitted, "Well, that's a long story…"  
  
  
  
 **Tag**  
  
  
It was well into the evening when Robert was finished having Meridina and Dr. Tusana thoroughly examine his mind. The Gamma Shift first watch was coming on duty when he walked through the bridge and to the ready office. He found Julia looking over the day's last reports. "Well, good news," he said. "Meridina and Doctor Tusana have finished spelunking through my brain. They're pronounced me free and clear." He made a little face. "They also know about that time you and I glued Ms. Hinds' pens together."  
  
Julia giggled in response to that act of childhood mischief. "It's between over twenty years and I still think she deserved it," Julia proclaimed. "The way she treated Zack was terrible. I'm glad his mom got him into another class, even if it meant he wasn't with us."  
  
"Right." He took a seat at her desk, anticipating what was next.  
  
"I haven't had a chance to read any of your preliminary reports yet," Julia said. "Assuming I get access to them. What happened? Leo's said something about a Psi Corps civilian refuge and red-eyed slavers."  
  
"It's a very long story, and I'll show you my report," Robert promised. "I think everyone should see it. I've had to rethink some things. Like Hawk."  
  
Julia's jaw dropped slightly. " _Hawk_? He was there?!"  
  
Robert nodded. "Turns out he was running the same mission while training a new recruit. We worked together. With the Psi Corps." He set his hands on his lap. "Honestly, I actually feel sorry for him now."  
  
He could sense Julia's incredulity at the comment. "Feel sorry for him? For _Hawk_?" After struggling to find a word, Julia settled for "Why?!"  
  
"Being near him let me connect a little," Robert answered. "Through shouting at him, admittedly. But I was able to sense his memories with my abilities. He wasn't directly responsible for Earth C1P2. It was a rogue subordinate. The one you met on the _Orsala_ , actually." When Julia didn't react to that verbally he continued. "Despite his violent behavior, he wants to do the right thing. He wants to end suffering. He's… well, he's very empathetic. The guilt of what happened to Earth C1P2 is crushing him. It's making his drive to fight even stronger."  
  
"This doesn't change that they've done some terrible things," Julia remarked. "By shielding the real killer, Hawk's making himself a war criminal. They're all going to have to face justice."  
  
"I know," Robert said. "And that's the damned waste of it all. He's taken this cause so far… and there's no telling who he's going to drag down with him before it's over." He mostly thought of Becca when he said that. That her survivor's guilt drove her to remaining with him was saddening. He could only hope she didn't end up a victim of Hawk's cause. That also brought him to the other issue. "And now that they're working with Lyta Alexander, they're even more dangerous."  
  
"Christ. Really?" Julia rubbed at her head. "Things are bad enough as it is."  
  
"When you count these red-eyed slavers, yeah, it's bad."  
  
"And I made it worse," she said quietly. Seeing he didn't know what she meant, Julia said, "The negotiations. Our deal with Earth, it's going to have a secret clause. One that Captain Ivanova introduced to me when we were trying to find a way to keep the talks from failing. Earth is going to suspend searches of Alliance-flagged ships along one of our major trading routes. That way we can smuggle unregistered telepaths to Alliance space without our ships getting searched."  
  
Robert frowned at that. "Or so they think," he said. "The fact is, Psi Corps has its own fleet. And it's bigger than I think people realize. They'll do raids and searches on their own. But at the same time, if the slavers realize what's going on…"  
  
"They'll fake Alliance IDs to take advantage. Maybe even buy Alliance ships. Psi Corps can't catch them all, and we may not have the ships to either. If they even bother coming to our space." Julia's self-recrimination was hard for Robert to take. "God, what have I done?"  
  
"Your job. Your duty," Robert said quietly. "You were required to bring that information to Onaran if you had it."  
  
"No," she said fervently. "I should have listened to my gut. I shouldn't have brought it to him." Shame showed in her aquamarine eyes. "You saved telepaths from slavery, but I may have condemned even more to it."  
  
"Maybe, maybe not. There might be ways we can salvage this," Robert said. "Julia, if this treaty with Earth didn't go through, it'd be even worse. Earth would tighten security, but they'd do it against us. They'd escalate the crisis, force us to focus on them and not the slavers. And they might have even upset Dr. Meier's plans."  
  
"Doctor Meier?"  
  
"He'll be in my report," Robert said. "He's one of the unofficial heads of the Psi Corps. Or rather, the forces preparing for revolution against Earth."  
  
"Elia - Commander Saumarez - mentioned something along those lines," Julia answered. "And I always thought the rumors about Psi Corps taking over were conspiracy theories."  
  
"That's not what he wants," Robert said. "It's more… Reformation. Or something like the Warsaw Uprising. They want to force Earth to end the oppression of telepaths."  
  
At first Robert expected Julia to disbelieve him. But she seemed more accepting than he'd imagined she'd be. "If so, I hope they win," she finally said.  
  
"I expected you to be a little more disbelieving," he admitted.  
  
"I do. Somewhat," she admitted. "But I've come to realize that there's more to the Psi Corps issue than I realized."  
  
"Same here. It helps to be shown different points of view." Robert nodded quietly. "They're not like us. And some of it… I still have trouble understanding why they're like the way they are. This collectivist mindset they have. This whole thing about 'The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father' still sounds cultish to my ears."  
  
"Same here," Julia said. "And they were founded to be a ghetto for telepaths. Why they'd be loyal to it…" She thought back to what Elia said in the Lookout. "Elia is right on that, I guess. The oppressed can take the symbols of that oppression and make them something else."  
  
"They can," he agreed. "And if we're to be fair toward them, we have to try to understand them, and hope they reciprocate."  
  
"That's why he let you take those telepaths with you?" she asked. "Dr. Meier, I mean. To show he understood your point of view?"  
  
"In part," Robert said. "But I think that he also resents taking away their choices. It hurts him that most of what they know about the Corps is propaganda, either from EarthGov or the Underground. But he understands that if things are to change, the Corps has to accept that not every telepath will join. So long as they're safe and happy, he'll live with it."  
  
"Well, that's all we can ask for when it comes to family, isn't it?"  
  
"Exactly. Colin adores his family, every member of them. Especially his husband and adopted daughter."  
  
Julia made a bewildered face. "Wait, husband? What about that eugenics program they have?"  
  
"Not very popular either," Robert confided. "Now, if you'll excuse me... " He stood up. "I need to go call Rabbi Soloveitchik to arrange a visitor from one of his counterparts from this universe." He chuckled at Julia's confused look. "I'll explain later," he promised.  
  
"I hope so…" Julia put her hands together on the desk. "By the way, have you considered a name for your infiltrator ship? It'll make the manifest and the requisitions easier to deal with."  
  
"A clever little girl suggested something," he said. "How about _Jayhawk_? Let's go with that."  
  
Julia chuckled. "Well, it's better than _Noble Steed_ , I'll grant. And so very Kansan of you."  
  
"Well, you know my family history," Robert said, smiling. "We Dales have always been Jayhawkers."  
  
Her response was a laugh.  
  
Just as Robert approached the door, he turned and looked at her again. "Julie?"  
  
"Yes?" She looked up at him.  
  
"I'm home," he said. "I'm safe. It's okay."  
  
With that he left, leaving Julia to sigh in relief.  
  
  
  
  
The next day the _Aurora_ was nearly to She'teyal and its second rendezvous with the _Huáscar_ in the span of a week. Robert left his quarters, content with the report he'd filed with Admiral Maran, destined for the eyes of the President. He held a copy of that same report in his hand as he made his way through Deck 6 to his destination: Elia Saumarez's guest quarters. When he arrived he tapped the chime. "Commander, this is Captain Dale. If you've got the time, I've got something I'd like you to see before you beam back to your ship."  
  
“Please come in, Sir,” the proper voice on the other side said, and a moment later the door lock cycled. By the time Robert got in, she was already back in uniform with her gloves.  
  
Upon entering Robert got a look at Elia for the first time. She was a middling-tall woman with an appearance more Mediterranean than English, dark hair and brown eyes, lithe in build. She looked born to wear a uniform, as if it was the most natural thing she could be in. The two gold and one black strips of Lieutenant Commander rank were visible on her collar, and the trim of her black uniform was Operations beige, just like Jarod and Tom, compared to the silver of Robert's and lacking the staff aiguillette. "It's good to meet you, Commander," he said. He extended his hand to offer the data pad in it. "I've brought you something. I admit I haven't cleared it yet with Admiral Maran, but given your crew provided us the first inkling that these people existed… I'm practicing Paladin's prerogative in sharing it with you and the _Huáscar_ 's staff." He was open with his thought that this was information that every Alliance crew should be aware of, to make it easier to know what they were facing.  
  
“It’s good to meet you too Captain Dale.” But it didn’t admit any cheer or particular enthusiasm. Elia was obviously drained emotionally and wanted nothing more than to get back to her own ship. Still, she was curious “I would ask where you got this, but I suspect you can’t tell me.” Elia replied, taking the datapad and staring at it’s contents. Her eyes went wide. “Forget where. How? This is extremely detailed.”  
  
"I had help," he admitted. "Doctor Colin Meier of Metapol provided me with information he pulled from the mind of one of the slavers. While he and about twenty other telepaths tore the man's mind to kindling." Robert frowned. "Some also came from a Corps medical student named Antonia di Giuseppe. She experienced what these people do first hand. It's all in there, as disgusting as it is."  
  
“I know that name…” Elia muttered, and looked it over, slowly at first, just taking it in. Then with rising horror at what these people were, faster and faster, as rapidly as she could read and digest the pages. Then she remembered where she’d heard that name. Elia had been out of the loop of the Corps for several years and the Corps hadn’t passed along the internal org-chart. Then she remembered. He was Metapol’s only active forensic psychologist. She also knew of him from somewhere else though, something to do with that Bloodhound from Mars, but she couldn’t place it. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention Captain. I… this is horrifying. Do you know how the Corps is going to deal with them? Given the recent… _agreement_.” There was a cast on the last word, she stifled snarling it.  
  
"They'll definitely take more interest in trying to cut off trafficking," Robert said. "But I'm not sure to what extent. Dr. Meier has other concerns, after all, regarding the situation with Earth." He wasn't sure how much Elia knew of the internal plans, not being privy to her purpose in the talks. "As for the agreement, Captain Andreys filled me in. And we'll find a way to deal with the problematic elements of this agreement with Earth. Hopefully at the upcoming New Liberty Endangered Nations' Summit."  
  
Elia raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me the Corps isn’t _openly_ sending delegates…” she hoped, but also inwardly chuckled at the thought.  
  
"Oh, that would be unthinkable, it'd violate the Charter," Robert answered. "From what I've read of it. From what I understand, a Psi Corps telepath is being hired by a rabbi to escort him to New Liberty for theological discussions with the New Liberty Rabbinical Council. To protect him from all of the unregistered telepaths in the Alliance. And a Psi Cop will be along to make sure the telepath doesn't decide to defect. I can't tell you which, of course." He smiled thinly. "From what I hear, the invitation will bring them around during the Summit. It's the earliest date in their busy schedule the rabbis can manage, I mean."  
  
Elia tried and failed to suppress laughter. It was just damned cheeky. It was so very thin, and yet, it might actually work provided no one blatantly took a podium. When she was done, she smiled warmly for the first time in days. “I needed that. Thank you.”  
  
Robert nodded. He'd sensed her mood and knew she needed something to make her feel better, to give her hope. "We've gotten some things wrong," he confessed. "I don't deny that. But we've got a chance to make up for that, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure we take it. After what I saw on Tau Atrea, what I experienced, I can't do anything less."  
  
Elia nodded, keeping herself disciplined again. “We’ll see how well you do Captain.” She sighed “You and I both know the Alliance is sick of fighting and has another war on the horizon. This is going to be another one before too long.”  
  
"Maybe. But if things fall the right way, if we do the right things, it might not be so bloody, or so long," he replied. "The Corps was made as a prison, and your people turned it into a society. We may not always understand it, but it shouldn't keep us from realizing you have a right to decide for yourselves what your future will be. And giving you that opportunity." As he spoke he thought back to what Tau Atrea and the settlement were like. The way the children played. The way everyone acted around each other. Thought around each other. He thought about Colin and Gene and Zara, and Husn and Lucas and Maina. He thought about Max and the burden of memories he willingly carried. He thought about Antonia and what she endured for the sake of two scared teenagers. It wasn't life or community as he'd known it. Or even as he'd seen it before. But whatever it was, it wasn't a prison either. Or if it was, it was only because outsiders made it one. And the "inmates" were not going to tolerate that for any longer.  
  
Elia picked up that thought and smiled a little. “Captain I think you’re the first person outside the Union who actually gets it, even a little. Thanks for going in with an open mind, that could have gone a lot worse.” She wasn’t even talking about the slavers. Had he gone in hostile there wasn’t a Psi Cop alive who would have hesitated to end him and then simply evacuate elsewhere. She knew it, and she figured he did too, but it was worth saying.  
  
"After seeing Dr. Meier and twenty telepaths use a telescope to tear apart that Aristo's mind while he was still in orbit, I'm well aware of how things could have gone," Robert observed wryly. "I'm grateful it didn't come to that.  
  
Elia snapped her fingers at the mention of a telescope, it was something of a feat with the gloves. “That’s where I remember him from!”  
  
"He mentioned he'd done it before."  
  
There was a tone in the air and Elia's omnitool lit up along the back of her left hand. She tapped at it. "Commander Saumarez here."  
  
Jarod was on the other end. " _Commander, just giving you a heads up. We're about to drop out of warp at She'teyal. The_ Huascar _is waiting to receive you. Captain Zhen'var mentioned something about tea waiting for you._ "  
  
“Thank you Commander. Please inform Captain Zhen’var that I will be transporting over shortly, and I would love to take tea.” Elia replied.  
  
" _Acknowledged."_  
  
Elia turned her attention back to Robert and replied “Sorry about that. But yeah, he has. Him and the Bloodhound we met at Mars, but they were teenagers at the time, fifty or so others, and the target was the entire crew of a Minbari Warcruiser.” Robert could feel that there was more, a certain sort of pride radiated from her even though she was blocking her own thoughts.  
  
"I heard something about that." After that reply Robert considered things for a moment before saying, "Well, I don't want to keep you. This mission has disrupted enough of your life as it is and I'm sure you're looking forward to getting back to your ship. Please, show all of that to Captain Zhen'var and the others. Along with the information on the slaver threat, it includes data on some new, dangerous capabilities in Hawk's organization."  
  
“Thank you Captain. I can’t wait to take a look at my backlog.” She gave him a wry grin. “I will pass this around our command staff, it’s going to prove invaluable. It has been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope we cross paths again under better circumstances.” This time, there was real warmth, even if the report made her shudder internally.  
  
"I hope so as well," Robert replied. "Take care, Commander, and _bon voyage_." With that he left her to finish getting ready for her departure.  
  
  
  
  
When he returned to his quarters, Robert took a seat at the desk and noticed he had a response to a query he'd sent into the Alliance Defense Command databanks, concerning the names Colin gave him for the slavers. Since he was due to see the others that evening to share his report with the entire _Aurora_ and _Koenig_ command staffs, he decided this information would be useful to share and opened the file.  
  
His eyes scanned the data. Information via the Allied Systems' diplomatic mission to an Earth government encountered earlier in the year, the Allied Worlds of Earth, Universe Designation A5R0, concerning neighboring states the Allied Systems had yet to establish diplomatic relations with. They listed a political entity of A5R0, the Eubian Concord, an oligarchical monarchy ruled by a genetically-modified class of Humanity.  
  
Namely… the Aristos.  
  
With it was a preliminary report from the Strategic Threat Assessment Staff of Defense Command, using public data provided from Earth sources to determine potential danger. Their findings were listed as "Undetermined", with an explanation that more intelligence was desired to confirm fleet strengths before a final assessment was issued. The only other item of note was that the Eubians were not the only major power in their home universe, but were locked into a long-term cold war with a political entity called the Skolian Imperialate.  
  
But even though there was nothing further on either group, Robert felt discomfort thinking about them. A sense within him that the Aristos were not just another group of slavers, and that they were a greater threat than anyone yet imagined.  
  
But that wasn't the only matter at hand. He found a second message waiting. Admiral Maran's staff confirmed their receipt of the universe coordinate designation he'd sent them. A preliminary survey and contact mission was being ordered.  
  
That made Robert smile. _Wherever you are, Rebekah bat Gurion, don't worry about your world. We'll do what we can for them too. And maybe… maybe you can come home one day._  
  
With that thought in mind, Robert shut down his systems and left for the Lookout. The others were waiting to celebrate his return from another mission. He didn't want to keep them waiting.  
  
It was the least he could do for family.


End file.
